Dayton Daily News - Sunday, July 26, 1925 - Section 2, Page 14

The Romance of Riverdale
by Howard Burba

(Editor's Note: In this, the second of a series of articles tending to show the development of various sections of the city of Dayton, the writer has reference to territory east of Forest and Richmond avs. to the Miami and Stillwater rivers, known as Riverdale, and to which has been added in more recent years North Riverdale. The illustrations are intended to show the type of homes erected within the past three or four years, and are not chosen with a view to their monetary value. Likewise, they are selected from widely-varied localities, proof that the growth of this important section of Dayton has not been along a few favored thoroughfares.)

"If you were to be dropped down in Dayton today you would hardly know it. The streets are all busy, Drays are running, hammer and trowel sounding, canal-boat horns flowing, stages flying--everybody doing something." Extract from a letter written by John W. VanCleve to a Cincinnati man in 1827.

Thus does the tiny candle cast its rays in a world filled with doubt and pessimism. Here we are 102 years from the day John W. VanCleve posted that letter as the old stage coach pulled away from Newcom's tavern at the southwest corner of Main and Water (Monument), a letter heavy with the spirit of civic pride. One hundred and two years removed from a town of 2130 souls, and yet among us many whose civic Pride and home-town loyalty is of a far-different brand from that possessed by the old empire builder who gave so much and received so little during the early struggles of Dayton.

But they were all boosters in those days, and that is the one thing responsible for Dayton now being on earth. Whispered hints of "it can't be done" and "standing still" and veiled forebodings of the disgruntled pessimist were unknown in John W. VanCleve's day. Daytonians had the happy faculty, seemingly not inherited by quite a few who have come on the replace them, of seeing ahead. We could cite scores of examples of this fact, but one should suffice.

Let's take old Samuel McPherson, for instance. Along about the time VanCleve was mailing his cheerful message of progress to his friend in Cincinnati, McPherson was engaged in trying to persuade his neighbors that there should be a bridge across the river at Main and Water st. (Monument av. was originally Water st.), pointing out that the ford at that point was treacherous during high water. More than one wagonload of grain from away up around Covington or Union or Harrisburg (now Englewood) had been lost in the bed of the river when horses were unable to negotiate the swift currents.

The river had a habit, too, of inundating the broad acres lying opposite the original town site, and causing it to become swampy and, to all appearances, undesirable for residential purposes. But the old trail from the north appealed to McPherson as holding much in store for the community--he visioned, prosperous settlement across the river, stretching out along both sides of this pioneer highway. James Welsh, David Reid, Elizabeth Parker and William George had title to the land, but McPherson secured a small tract, erected a store at a point where McPherson street now intersects the original road--now Main st.--and invited settlers to follow his example.

Within a short time a dozen homeseekers had braved the swampland and builded their homes there, and in honor of the man who was first to foresee a new and prosperous addition to Dayton it was called "McPhersontown." Along about this time John and Samuel Steele constructed a dam across the Miami, below the present site of Island Park, dug a semi-circular mill race around to a point now marked by McKinley park and a grist mill was soon in operation. It was originally known as Tate's mill, and the road which branched off of the original pike away out past McPhersontown and led to the mill was known as the Tate mill road. Today it is Forest av.

For a long time, though, this new settlement remained dormant. Not until June 4, 1835, when the town council voted the sum of $600 for the erection of a covered bridge at the Main street ford did McPherson's dream commence to take definite form. One year later, in 1836, when the bridge was opened, things began to happen on the north side of the river. Gradually new homes began to spring up until, in 1844, J. H. Peirce sensed the possibilities of a prosperous addition to the town on that side of the river, and opened a sub-division of 26 acres.

This plat was located south of the old Tate mill race, which now forms the Great Miami boulevard. One year later, McPherson, having secured a tract surrounding his country store, caused it to be platted, the lots lying on each side of what is now McPherson st., from Main st. to what is now Linwood. Almost coincident with this, Robert W. Steele recorded a plat that took in all that part of McPhersontown between McPherson st. and the river bank west of Main and along the old river road which led from the covered bridge to Tate's mill.

The next plat opened was north of the hydraulic, or Tate's mill race, as it was then called. In 1851 Henry Herman platted all that part lying between what is now Forest av. and Main st. and the boulevard and Five Oaks. Geyer st. was one of the chief thoroughfares through this new plat, and a few years later, when Herman av. was created it was named in honor of this pioneer "realtor."

By the time Montgomery co's. contribution to the Civil War had returned home beneath the white flag of peace, McPhersontown was flourishing. The question of annexation came up and since petty bickering and personal bigotry did not assert itself in such matters in those days, since everyone was big enough to put aside jealousies and selfishness, the new settlement was taken in as a part of the original town plat, and christened Riverdale.

Five Oaks, originally known as Plant st., was the north corporation line, Forest av., or Tate's mill road formed the boundary on the west and the river east and south. Older residents assert that Plant st. received its name because it was in the heart of the old Heicht nursery, which covered all that part of the present Riverdale now embraced in squares founded by Plant and Warder and Neal, Pioneer and Locust, and as far south as the Miami boulevard.

It wasn't long until a healthy industrial settlement sprung up along the hydraulic on the present site of McKinley park. The water from the race furnished abundant power to turn the wheels of many mills, and here was established the old Simons knife factory, the old Stillwell-Bierce turbine wheel plant, and--note this--the first electric light plant in Dayton. The latter came through the enterprise of P. P. Lowe.

It seemed but a step to a street car line in the town proper, and Riverdale soon grew to the point where an extension of this transportation system along Main st., north of the river, was desirable. The Oakwood line, then turning on Water st., at the monument, was accordingly carried on across the bridge and to a point now marked by Neal av. (At that time Neal was known as Rung st., named in honor of Henry Rung, who conducted a grocer on the site of Keller Bros'. present stand.) At Rung and Mian was the turntable upon which the cars, pulled by horsepower, were reversed for the trip back to town.

But Riverdale's first transportation system was a financial failure, and after a few years of operation the tracks were covered up. Along about 1890, however, Cincinnati capital became interested in a newly discovered means of transportation--the electric car. Some of that capital found its way to Dayton, and a company was organized to build what is now the "White Line." Tracks were laid from the west side to the downtown district, and those buried in Riverdale were resurrected, and extended on out to the triangle now formed by the intersection of Forest av. and Main st. But the new company received a setback, very early in its career, for Charles Clegg, operating the Oakwood, refused to grant permission for a joint usage of his rails from the south end of the bridge to Third and Main, where the "White Line" had already come via Ludlow st.

But no one man had a monopoly on either brains or progress in those days, so one night, as Mr. Clegg slept peacefully in his palatial home, White Line engineers tapped the Oakwood at the present site of the monument on North Main st., ran a car over it to legalize the transaction--the White Line tied Riverdale to Dayton proper, and has served both sections well and faithfully ever since.

Albert Hussong was running a grocery at the old turntable, on Main when the car line was rejuvenated; a member of the pioneer Ritter family conducted a blacksmith shop on the opposite corner (present site of the Dale apartments); McPherson's store down nearer town was doing a flourishing business and across the street the father of Dayton's latter-day baseball magnate, John Spatz, had established Riverdale's first bakery. Where Lawn st. now intersects Main was the city's most popular and most liberally patronized place of entertainment--Schwartz's beer garden. And all about the flourishing addition progress was receiving a pat on the back at the hands of men whose names are now written into municipal history--Rung, Germain, Hussong, Phillips, Peirce, Ritter, Yentzel, Mumma, Roney, Herman, Rost and others.

There was a tremendous traffic in grain over the old Covington-Dayton pike in those days, and pioneer Riverdale merchants increased their fortunes by trading in it. Wagons were stopped at the old Hussong watering trough at Main and Rung, groceries and pure corn liquor exchanged for grain, which was later marketed at the old Osceola mill, across from the present Durst mill, and at the noted Gephart mill at Third st. and the canal. Riverdale pushed on out beyond the carline "Y" at Forest and Main, and sensing the need of a modern amusement place, the owners of the line laid more track out Mian st., on past the toll-gate that stood where Ridge av. now intersects Main, and to the old Wolfe farm. That part of the farm lying west of the pike was purchased and converted into an amusement park, and christened Fairview.

It seems as though it were but yesterday that men and women now high up on the theatrical ladder were receiving the plaudits of Fairview park audiences--Tinney, Barlow, DeAngeles, Ring, Sainpolis, and many others. Across the walk from the old casino and exactly where the handsome Brown school building now stands was the ball grounds on which Dayton's teams in the Central League fought many a grueling contest. It seems but last week that Fairview park was "away out in the country," and too far to walk back from if you lost your last sou on Johnny Spatz's nine.

Drive out N. Main today and behold the transformation. Drive along paved streets that were walks among the trees and amusement concessions of the old Fairview park less than a dozen years ago. Drive on--for squares and squares through thickly-settled part of Dayton that was in corn and pastureland no longer than six years ago.

Pause as you near Siebenthaler av. and the car loop for a magnificent view out across the valleys of the Stillwater and the Great Miami, and note the new streets that have not only been cut through from Main to the river, but that have been build almost solidly with homes of the modern type within less than two years. And--better still--note the vast number of new houses that are, at the very moment you are reading this, in course or erection.

Or drive into the edge of Dayton View and out Richmond av.--a mere cowpath and almost inaccessible a half-dozen years ago. Get int North Riverdale, now built solidly from Main st. west, almost to Salem av. Go back through what was once Fairview park and cross Main st. to those plats running toward the Stillwater. Behold here streets you have not heard of, all laid out and paved--and builded solidly with beautiful homes since your soldier boy came back from the World War.

Riverdale follows the White Line. It went with it when it moved its tracks on out Main from the old turntable at Rung st.; it pushed right along in solid formation when it took its "Y" at Forest and Main and set it down again at Fairview park; it marched on happily and enthusiastically when Fairview became a place of homes, and still again when the loop was established at its present site, on the city's corporation line at Hillcrest av. and Main.

But Riverdale isn't waiting on a street car now. Already she has pushed on out beyond the care line loop, on along the Covington pike, until Shiloh, six miles away, is practically a part of her. An on each side new subdivisions are being platted, recorded and thrown open. No blare of trumpets has heralded her march on to the north and the east and the west. That's why you will not believe there has been a magical transformation in Riverdale and North Riverdale until you see it for yourself.

The sooner you see and realize that it is no longer "McPhersontown"; that the last man is out in the ninth inning at Fairview park, and that Shiloh, once six miles away, is now just at the end of Main st., the happier you will be. For civic pride makes for happiness, and visualizing the newer Riverdale will fill you with civic pride.

(Next Sunday -- "When the West Side was in Mexico.")