By Allan R. Way, Company Historian

One of the items of business during the monthly meeting held in February of 1906 was to send a note of sympathy to Dr. Howell Whit for the "loss and annoyance" he had experienced through the destruction of his barns by fire. Dr. White was a medical doctor whose home and farm was on Main Street about across from Luyster Place is today.

I am retelling the story told by Herman Dean's in PECO’s 100th Anniversary History book.

The first fire of consequence since the reorganization (April 1904) destroyed Dr. White's barn in the early morning hours of February 5th, 1906. It was undoubtedly incendiary in origin and very similar to a fire that occurred in the same building nearly a year and a half earlier.

The earlier fire had occurred on a summer evening of 1903. It was discovered at almost the same instant by several different people. The Eureka Engine Company under Foreman Sparks responded promptly. The engine was placed at a large and full cistern near the residence within reach of the fire by two streams. The fire was soon extinguished. However, the roof and interior of the barn were badly damaged.

For a week or more before the second fire, Dr. White visited a pneumonia patient very early every morning. The doctor would leave his house at about 5:00 AM. The patient died on February 4th and that evening the doctor told his hired hand, Fred Murphy, that it would not be necessary for him to get up at 4 o'clock the next morning as he had been doing.

On the morning of February 5th, a little before 5 o'clock, William Brundage, a member of Protection Engine who lived on the Vandervoort place next door, saw a flame shoot out of the slat window of Dr. White's barn.

He ran to Dr. White's residence, rang the bell and shouted, arousing the whole household, and then ran down the street to spread the alarm. His cries were heard by many people, but in his excitement, instead of saying "Fire!” he said, "Hay! Hay! Hay!

At that time, his father-in-law, Uriah Wallace, a charter member of Protection Engine and the janitor of our school house, was on his way from his Church Street home to the school house. He had heard the first call made by Brundage and even recognized his voice, but he did not understand what he said. Then, when he realized that it was a fire alarm, he hastened to the school house and rang the bell. (I’ll tell more about the bell in another article). There was a prompt response and quickly the engine company was at the fire with the engine placed as on the former occasion.

In the meantime, Dr. White and several helpers were vainly endeavoring to get a horse out of the barn. In terrible heat, with fire dropping all about the animal from the flaming mow above, and his stable blanket already ignited, the horse would not budge. Will Riley, seeing the difficulty, rushed around to the back of the building with an axe and gave a tremendous splintering blow on the siding, causing the horse to jump out of the door in a panic.

Just then the announcement came that the engine would not work. One of the pump plungers had gone to the bottom of the cylinder and stayed there. It took more than a half an hour for the Company machinists to disconnect it and adjust the pump to run on one cylinder. By that time, the building was a total loss but, much of its contents were saved.

The engine referenced is the hand pumper we still have today. In those days you not only were a pump operator, but also, an engineer and machinist and mechanic as well.

Everyone knew that the fire was suspicious. And, it was clear that the arsonist knew Dr. White's habits. Some suspected that the arsonist had tampered with the engine as well. It was later proved that the engine's failure was due to a stripped thread on a connecting rod.

Everyone who knew anything about the fire turned detective. Even a professional detective worked on the case for a while. Dr. White offered a reward of $500 for evidence to convict through an ad in the Times. He ran the ad for three years until he ordered the ad discontinued. He had found out who the guilty man was, but could not do anything about it.

It seems a black man named Charlie Miller lived in the Village for a number of years. His reputation was not good, but none who knew him ever thought he was as bad as he really was. He had come to Fishkill from Hopewell. While living in Hopewell he had been arrested and served time for stealing a wagon load of coal from the railroad yards there.

After his release from prison, Charlie took up residence in what was once the store and depot building at Sylvan Lake. That building burned one night. The fire was suspicious. The insurance company that covered his personal belongings wouldn't pay. There were allegations that Charlie had removed everything from the house prior to the fire. However, not enough evidence was presented to take Charlie to court.

A couple of years later, in the late fall, Miller was working a steam threshing machine at the Ardmore Farm near Conover's Corner in the Town of Wappingers when fire of suspicious origin destroyed several buildings of considerable size along with their contents and a large herd of Jersey cattle had to be turned out into the cold. Miller disappeared during the height of the blaze surfacing in Fishkill some 2 or 3 years later. When asked why he run off from the Ardmore farm, Miller explained that he feared the white men suspected him and would take summary vengeance on him.

Miller died in the fall of 1909. According to Herman Dean, Miller confessed to his physician, Dr. White, during the illness that led to his death. He told Dr. White that he had twice set fire to his barns, that he was responsible for the fire at the Ardmore Farms, and had set fire to his own house to collect the insurance to buy a new threshing machine.

The story might not make a good movie of the week, but it shore kept the Village is suspense for three years.