ELECTRIC FIRE ALARMS.

1895

Their Advantage In the Time When Immediate Help Is Most Needed.

The first few moments after the outbreak of a fire is the critical time in deciding whether or not it can be got under control, and upon the prompt arrival of the apparatus often depends the salvation or the destruction of the entire plant. While a watchman may be thoroughly conscientious and alert and do everything in his power under the trying circumstances which confront him the appliances at hand are necessarily limited, and one man is seldom enough for the emergency. If, after doing all he can, he finds the fire too much for him to handle and must then leave it to send in an alarm, much valuable time is lost, and when the apparatus finally arrives the blaze has obtained a vantage ground which often means the destruction of the property.

With the splendidly developed electric fire alarm systems which are on the market at the present day, affording every possible means of protection and at the same time reducing the insurance premiums very materially, it seems a decidedly short sighted policy to pass them by and still depend on the by no means infallible vigilance of a human machine, which, however good it may be, still has weaknesses which the other is not heir to.

The automatic fire alarm companies have made immense strides in the improvement of their systems during the past few years, and as their business has increased through the gradual appreciation of its merits they have kept abreast of the requirements presented and meet them at every point. The insurance companies have not been slow to recognize the additional protection to themselves as well as to the manufacturers, and have offered inducements in the shape of reduced premiums on plants so equipped.

The manufacturer whose plant is destroyed by fire, even though he be insured, suffers a loss which can hardly be estimated at the time, and from which it may take him years to recover, and though it is a peculiarity of human nature to look on such a contingency as applicable to everybody but himself the sensible man is the one who leaves no dangerous point unguarded, especially against so ruthless an enemy as fire. — Electrical Review.

It's Nice to Get Up in the Mornin' When You've Got a Talking Clock!

1920

There's an epidemic of talking clocks in the country. Chicago and Philadelphia are the first to be afflicted and it's said that the disease may spread.

Vincent Pinto of Philadelphia has what, to all appearances, is a staid old grandfather's clock, but at times it does things that would surprise, if not shock, all of the younger clocks.

During the early morning hours, it behaves as other clocks have from the time of the first grandfather's. But at 6 it changes. First it booms out the hours — Bong — bong — bong — bong — bong — bong — then it shouts, being heard thruout the house:

"Six o'clock and time to get up."

Mrs. Vincent and her daughter Rose obey and an hour later the clock shouts up the stairs to Pinto and his son: "Breakfast is ready. Hurry down."

Warns Men of Their Work.

"Off to work, now it's time," the clock warns the men of the family at 7:30 and at 9 a. m. it informs Mrs. Pinto, "It's time to go to your marketing."

And so it goes, all day long, that nobody in the house may forget any duties. At 11 o'clock at night the clock, imitating Pinto's voice in its deepest and sternest tones, says:

"Time to go home, young man, it's 11 o'clock; time to go home."

Miss Rose's "young man" gets his hat and goes.

Pinto and his son built the clock and installed the talking apparatus after eleven months' work. Pinto made his own records, and he can change the clock's conversation whenever he wishes. It is rumored he sometimes stops the talking apparatus on Sundays and other days when he is at home.

Here's the Chicago Edition.

But Oscar Lindholm of Chicago, a machinist, declares that the Philadelphia clock is an infringement on a patent that he obtained six months ago. Lindholm has patented an alarm clock that yells instead of ringing.

The invention can be adjusted to an ordinary phonograph and the record is made to wake you in the manner that best suits your tastes and nationality.

If you're an ex-service man you may be delighted to hear the old familiar strains of "You gotta get up, you gotta get up, you gotta get up in the morning."

Or if you happen to be Scotch you can have the song that Harry Lauder made famous — "Oh, it's nice to get up in the mor-r-rning, but it's better to lie a-bed!"

—The Saturday Blade, Chicago, Aug. 7, 1920, p. 5.

The "False Alarm Fiend" and His Deadly Joke

(Click graphic for bigger.)

Chicago, 1916

More Firemen Killed and Maimed Responding to Calls of Mischievous Adults and Children Than in Going to Real Fires — St. Louis Fire-fighters Find One in Eight Alarms Are Fictitious — How Jack O'Connor Was Killed

The practical joker is always with us, and while the world may sometimes cry, "The joker is dead — long live the joker," it has long been acknowledged that the human zero in chronic deviltry is the chap who sends in a false alarm just to see the boys or "hosses" run. These hopeless boneheads are constantly bobbing up in nearly every community in our land, with results that sometimes land them in deep trouble or cause them to part with more or less of their precious dollars as penalty for their indulgence in a foolish and sometimes tragic amusement. However, a good, stiff monetary fine, or a term behind jail bars, seldom fails to cure the city or village cut-up of all further desire to "monkey" with fire alarm box, telephone or any other means of sending the fire lads on a hazardous run when no reason for it exists further than the silly joker's ambition to startle the public.

A St. Louis paper has found it quite necessary to take up this subject, and with good reasons, as the "false alarm fiend" seems to have carried his deadly joke far beyond the limit of tolerance in that city, with the result that lives have been lost and much human and mechanical energy expended for naught.

At 11:15 o'clock on the night of Aug. 8 some person, perhaps bibulous and certainly with a perverted sense of humor, observed a fire alarm box at Natural Bridge road and Sophia avenue, says the Post-Dispatch. At once he conceived the outlines of what appeared to be a brilliant joke. He walked up to the box, broke the glass in its front and pressed on a lever. Then, perhaps, he chuckled and walked to a safe spot and waited to see the fun.

Most of the firemen of Engine Company No. 31 were in their bunks when the alarm came in. They sprang to their places. The horses flew to their positions and, when the automatic harness fell, pawed impatiently to be away.

John O'Connor, a fine, stalwart, courageous man. sprang to the driver's seat and reached for the reins. One of them dropped. As he tried to recover it, the horses lunged and he fell headfirst to the floor, where he lay all crumpled up. Somebody pulled him to one side, another driver took his place, the engine went on its way.

Then a doctor came and looked at Jack O'Connor. Jack was dead, with a broken neck.

It is interesting to wonder whether the man who pulled the hook enjoyed his joke. It is interesting also to speculate on the nature of the mental make-up of such a man — whether it permits him to feel that he is guilty of Jack O'Connor's death.

"Hooks" in Bad Wreck.

It was a similar "joke" that sent Hook and Ladder Company No. 15 to Euclid and Cote Brilliante avenues on the night of July 4. The truck collided with a street car at Euclid. Captain Farrell and Firemen A. Gradell and J. Haberstroh were thrown to the ground and so cruelly mangled that they are not yet able to return to duty.

Capt. John Detwiler lay on a bed of suffering for 67 days, early in 1914, with both arms and his nose broken and his back badly wrenched because another idiot turned in a false alarm from Klemm street and Flora boulevard. Fireman George Harbaugh was out of service for 53 days with a fractured skull and Fireman E. Sedivec was out 30 days with a wrenched back from the same accident, a collision between their truck and a street car.

On the night of Nov. 7, 1915, Edward A. Murphy, a citizen, was run over by a fire truck responding to a false alarm, and was sent to the city hospital with both legs broken.

On the night of Dec. 5, 1915, Lieut. William Haas of Engine Company No. 11 was thrown from his wagon when responding to a false alarm and was severely injured.

On the night of July 27 last, G. Wadsack, a fireman, was badly hurt when the truck on which he was riding, after a false alarm, struck a tree.

In every one of these affairs, honest, decent, law-abiding men, trying to do their perilous duty for the public, were hurt because of a quirk in the brain of some other person. It is part of a fireman's job to take risks, but he has risks enough, heaven knows, in his regular work without having these added to them.

When Firemen Get Sore.

"You see, it is this way," one of them said to the writer recently. "We know we are taking chances all the time. You never hear a holler from us, tho, when we get hurt at a fire or going to one. It's when some fool turns in a false alarm and an accident smashes up some of our fellows that we get sore. Whoever sent Jack O'Connor to his death, for instance, is a murderer, pure and simple, in our eyes. It'll go hard some of these days with one of those guys if the boys ever get him dead to rights."

Every man from the Chief on down to the newest hostler in the department believes that there is a strange and especial danger in going to false alarms. They declare that their records prove it. It is comparatively rare, they say, that there is a collision or an upset in going to an actual fire.

The number of false alarms turned in is simply amazing. The total from Jan. 1, 1913, to Aug. 1, 1916, was 1,934, an average of a little more than 45 a month. Last year one out of every eight alarms recorded was a false one. The smallest number in any month was 20 for August, 1914, and the largest was 72, for November, 1913. Thus far in the current year the smallest number was 35, for April, while January and February each had 41.

There is a popular impression that most of these alarms are turned in by children. This is not true, according to Chief Henderson. Most of them, the Chief says, are turned in by men and particularly by men who drive various kinds of delivery wagons late at night. One of these sees a box, the Chief declares, turns in an alarm, drives on a block or so and waits to see what happens. The streets usually are deserted at the time, they are not detected at their work and consequently escape all punishment. The law provides a maximum penalty of imprisonment in the penitentiary for this offense, yet it is rarely inflicted because it is hard to obtain evidence for an arrest, to say nothing of conviction.

Children Sometimes "Jokers.”

Children are caught more frequently. They are invariably turned over to the Juvenile Court and an official of the Fire Department takes a hand in the prosecution. Whenever it is found to be a case merely of prankishness, the matter is usually ended by a stiff reprimand and by a recommendation that a parent of the child administer a sound spanking. This recommendation is generally followed and the result, Chief Henderson says, in most cases is salutary.

"It is with adults that the real trouble comes," the Chief added. "If we could only get the public to realize the enormity of the offense and to look upon the man who turns in a false alarm as an individual dangerous to the public welfare, who ought at once to be surrendered to the authorities, we could soon break up the practice.

Most of the serious accidents to trucks going to fires come from collisions with street cars. City ordinances require that when the bells of the fire engines are heard, motormen must stop their cars and drivers of all vehicles must draw up to the nearest curb and stop. Most of the motormen do this, the Chief says. Some of them do not but try to beat the engines across a street intersection.

"The United Railways, as a corporation, invariably cooperate with us," the Chief explained. "Some of the individual motormen do not. They usually advance the plea that, shut up in their vestibules, they did not hear the bells. It is often hard to disprove this. When we can do so, the street car company always fires the man and he cannot get his job back again. As a general thing, we have little trouble with motorists. They nearly always give us right of way when they can."

Want Better Traffic Regulations.

Most firemen believe that the traffic regulations of St. Louis for such emergencies are antiquated and insufficient. Altho our ordinances require all cars and autos to stop when the fire engines are coming, they are not rigidly obeyed as they are in other cities — in New York for instance. There the law says that traffic shall stop and it does stop. However, there are three or four traffic policemen on all corners in congested districts to see that it does.

Kansas City and other towns also have an admirable arrangement to stop traffic in congested districts. There on downtown corners are electric gongs. As soon as engines are started these gongs begin ringing, much like the bells at block signals on certain railroads. This is a signal to clear the thorofare, and the fire engines have an open road for minutes before they actually appear.

Chief Henderson has tried to get a similar arrangement authorized by the St. Louis Board of Aldermen. It would cost about $30,000 if electricity is furnished free by public service corporations, and our city lawmakers have not seen fit to incur the expense.

"If we had such gong signals, tho," the chief declared, "I would rather put them at places outside the downtown district. Really we have very few accidents downtown. They usually happen out in the quiet neighborhoods, late at night.

"I'll tell you what our worst trouble is, tho, and it's going to cost St. Louis a big conflagration some day. It is the congestion of traffic on downtown streets, where autos are parked. Some of these days we are going to have a fire on a street where it will take us half an hour or maybe more to get these cars out of our way, and by the time we have got a place cleared to work in the fire will be out of our control. A loss of five minutes getting to a fire is likely at any time to mean two or three additional hours getting the fire under control."

Some Motormen Are Reckless.

Curiously enough, many of the drivers of fire wagons believe that most collisions are really unavoidable accidents. "The bust-up usually comes so quick you don't know what has happened or how," one of them said, "until somebody is pouring water in your face and bringing you to. We always try to get the horses under control when we approach a street car crossing and most of the motormen do the best they can. But sometimes you are going along at a good clip and a street car is going at a good clip and before either you or the motorman realizes the danger — zowie!

"We are always afraid of the motorman who tries to beat us to the crossing. Maybe he is a minute or two behind schedule or is trying to get to the end of the line a minute or two before so he can stop for a bit of lunch. There is usually a bunch of excited people on the corner. Some of them motion to us to come on and maybe some of them motion to the motorman that he can make it. The law says he oughtn't to try to make it, but he goes ahead anyhow — there always are a few fools like that — and then it happens!

"The public could do a lot of good and save a lot of danger in these cases if it could only be properly educated. If a few of these reckless motormen were reported to the street car company once in a while, it would stop such foolishness. Understand, we haven't any quarrel with the motor men in general. Most of them try to obey the law and help us out all they can. It's the occasional fellow that takes a chance who makes all the trouble.

Public Should Help, Say Firemen.

"Maybe I feel pretty strongly about this, but it's a serious matter for us fellows. You just put it into your paper that if the public will cooperate with us in this matter and, above all, help us put the false alarm fiend out of business, we'll be satisfied."

Policemen, as a rule, cooperate with firemen in every way possible. Chief Henderson says he has never made a request of one at a fire without getting immediate and satisfactory response. However, strict enforcement of the rules requiring street cars and autoists to stop at the approach of a fire engine has always been lax and there have been few arrests and prosecutions.

The new parking ordinance for automobiles is proving helpful in keeping some of the downtown streets clear, altho the fire fighters would like to see it extended until no autos were left in the streets without drivers in charge of them.

They Had Better Watch Out.

Ten times in the last five days false alarms of fire have been sent in from the alarm box at Fifty-eighth street and South Wabash avenue. Last night, says the Chicago Journal, when Engine Company No. 51 arrived at the corner, its members questioned a little girl standing at the curbing.

"'Stubby' McGovern and 'Billy' Barry did it," she said. "They do it most every day and then they run away and hide.

"Stubby" and "Billy" are 8 or 9 years old. A policeman will talk to them today.

—The Saturday Blade, Chicago, Sept. 16, 1916, p. 12.

Small Alarm Clock — Ouch!

1903

A novelty in the way of an alarm clock has been perfected by an American jeweler. It is about the size of a hazel nut. It is made to wear on the finger. The alarm is not a bell, but a sharp pin, which pricks the finger at the time the wearer wishes to rise.


Electricity Saves Windmill

In Germany electricity, among other curious results, has rehabilitated the discarded windmill. At Neresheim a windmill applies power for thirty-six incandescent lamps that light a large paint factory. Another in Schleswig-Holstein keeps a steady current of thirty volts. At Dusseldorf a windmill winds up a heavy weight of which the descent works a powerful dynamo.

A Great Prison Whistle

1896

Warden Sage, of Sing Sing prison, is having constructed an immense and powerful steam whistle to be used to alarm officers and citizens in case of an escape, an uprising in the prison or fire. It will also signal the beginning of work in the shops in the morning and the shutting down at night.

The whistle is known as a Fitts patent twelve-inch three-barred steam gong, and is the largest in use. It is composed of three cylindrical bells or barrels placed one above the other. These barrels are fastened to the steam conductor, which passes through them. The entire whistle is eight feet in height, and, contrary to ordinary whistles, the barrels or resonators are inverted. Each barrel has a different tone, thus producing a blended sound, without ear-splitting effects.

It is asserted that under favorable atmospheric conditions the whistle can be heard at a distance of thirty miles. Even under unfavorable circumstances the alarm should be heard seven to ten miles away.


New Use for Corncobs

Frank Shafer took to Lacon, Ill., recently, a sample of sirup which a number of experts pronounced genuine maple sirup. It was nothing more nor less than corncob sirup, made as follows: Twelve clean cobs were put in a gallon of water and boiled until soft. Then the juice was strained off and a gallon of dark brown sugar solution added. This is boiled a little while, resulting in a fine quality of sirup, hardly distinguishable from the maple product. — Chicago Times-Herald.

No More Last Forty Winks

1914

Fiend Has Invented an Alarm Clock That Simply Insists on One's Rising in the Morning

It has often seemed, after the announcement of an invention to which the attention of the entire civilized world has been called, that the human mind could scarcely invent anything more and fashion it in material form, but the countless dreams of inventors continue to be realized in astounding numbers.

Every week, every month, the trade journals advertise and comment upon new things in the lines which they represent and publish new ideas which this material labor-saving age seizes and makes its own.

An alarm clock which awakens you with the words of a disgusted wife who has breakfast on the table, and a large vessel which carries submarines over long distances by means of a "pouch" are among the newest offerings.

As an ever present need, the alarm clock will probably be put into more general household use than the ship with the "pouch" for carrying submarines. In the evening before retiring you set the clock for 6:30; at 6:30 you will probably get up. Here is what will waken you:

"Six-thirty, six-thirty, six-thirty; time to get up; get up, can't you? Get up you miserable, lazy man. Get up, get up, get up!"

The first clock of this kind was exhibited in 1900, but it cost $2,500 to make it. The present offering costs $25. If you are awake in the middle of the night and wish to know the time, press a button and the clock will tell you the nearest quarter hour as: "Two-fifteen," if it happens to be 2:13 or 2:18. The phonographic record is on an endless belt and the grooves in which the voice vibrations are recorded run lengthwise of the belt. The belt continues to give out sound until shut off when once started. So far the clocks have been supplied with belts which talk in thirty-five languages.

Safeguards Against Thieves

1888

A Reformed Burglar Tells Householders How to Protect Their Property

First of all, I may say that the householder, especially if his house is situated in the suburbs, should count as next to nothing the protection afforded by the night policeman on his beat. I don't mean to insinuate that the night policeman neglects his duty. I believe that, as a rule, he performs it as well as he is able to, and it may be pretty safely relied on that at each time he passes a row of villas he will cast the light of his bull's eye over the front garden, if there is one, and over the house front, and the lower windows and street door. If there is no front garden, he will see that all is right and tight in the area as well. But his beat is a long one, and it is probable he will not pass that way again for an hour, or perhaps longer. So that if there is a job afoot all that those engaged in it have to do is to hide and see the policeman off and they then know exactly how much time they have to get through their work before he can make his appearance again.

Speaking from my experience, and from that of others with whom I have been acquainted, I should say that at least a fourth part of the number of private house burglaries that are successfully committed are assisted by servants. But speaking of ordinary work it is the female servants who are made useful and that quite innocently on their part. Masters and mistresses have no idea what easy simpletons many girls in service are, or how easily they are induced to betray the secrets of the house. And not only girls, but women, cooks and housemaids, who are old enough to know better. A smart chap, with plenty to say and with money to spend, has but to scrape acquaintance with the kind of servants I am alluding to when they are out for church on Sunday and meet them a few times afterward, and he can learn all he wants to know respecting the valuable stuff in the house and where it is kept, and the ways and habits of their employers and when they are at home and when away.

It is not often the burglar himself who in this way goes a-fishing for useful information. Generally speaking, he is not what may be called a "ladies' man." He is very well in his own line, but he hasn't got the good looks or the insinuating ways that go down with the fair sex. That part of the programme is intrusted to the "sweetstuff man." He is an affable, well spoken young fellow, very respectably dressed, and so respectable in his manner that even if he was caught in the kitchen with the servants at houses where followers are strictly prohibited his appearance would disarm suspicion.

It should not be forgotten that the burglar has no particular desire in the pursuit of his calling to run his head into more danger than is necessary, and there is nothing that is so much to his liking as parapet work — getting in at attic windows that are screened by the roof parapet. Not one householder in a score gives a thought as to the security of the attic window. He will have the street door iron plated, with a patent lock on it, and a chain strong enough to hold an elephant, but a catch that can be put back with a bradawl is good enough for the attic window, and all the time it is quite as easy to enter by one way as the other — if the houses stand in a row and one of them happens to be empty. This is one of the opportunities the fraternity are always on the lookout for.

Nothing can be easier than to enter an unoccupied house at the basement, and once within all a man has to do is to walk upstairs and go out on to the parapet, and there, well screened from view by the coping, he can creep on his hands and knees, and by means of the attic windows get into any house he has a fancy for. If it is winter time, and after dark, he will have no difficulty in taking stock of the front windows before he makes the accent, and so ascertaining which of the front rooms are occupied or if the family is at dinner. If the latter he can be pretty sure that the servants are all down stairs, and he can explore the upper rooms without much fear of interruption. This wouldn't be called in the profession tip top work, but it is a means by which householders lose a considerable amount of portable property, and it very rarely happens that the robber is caught in the act.

As regards house fastenings there is, in my opinion, nothing safer for windows than a long thumb screw in a socket, going right through the frame and deep into the sash on both sides of the window. I don't know if there have been any wonderful inventions in that way since I took an interest in such things, but I never saw a door fastener except the thumb screw that should give a workman a minute's trouble. For the street door there is nothing so good as a flat bar fastened to a pivot to the center, so that it will extend across the jambs and drop into slots made on the plan of a watch and chain swivel. For window shutters the cheapest and best protection is a lightly hung bell on a coil spring. But better than locks, bolts and bars is a wiry little dog that, roaming loose, will open his pipes and let all the house know it the moment he hears a suspicious noise at door or window. — London Telegraph.

He Liked to See Horses Run, Boy Tells the Judge

La Crosse, Wisconsin, 1917

Ragged Youth Pleads Guilty and Is Let Off with a Small Fine for False Alarms

It was an irresistible yearn for excitement and the sight of galloping horses which led Frank Edward Love, 17, 327 North Tenth street, to "pull" fire alarm boxes and then hide a few rods away while the fire department dashed to the box, Love told Judge Clinton W. Hunt in police court Tuesday morning.

The boy wore ragged, misfitting clothes and his hair had not been cut for months. He pleaded guilty and was fined $5 and costs. Chief of the Fire Department Fred C. McGlachlin asked the court to be lenient.

Love was arraigned with Harold Johnson, 21, and Gilbert Norton, 17, who declared they were not guilty. Norton, who is part Indian, on parole from the state reform school at Waukesha, denied having confessed to Chief of Police John B. Webber. Johnson had nothing to say. He appeared much older than Norton and Love. Norton and Johnson will be tried Monday afternoon.

E. T. Eaton, parole officer of the Waukesha school, may take Norton before Judge Brindley and if he is found guilty he may return with Eaton.

The fire department is mystified over an alarm sent in over the telephone at 8 o'clock Monday evening. When the automobile truck from Hose company No. 4 reached the 1400 block on George street, where the message said there was a chimney fire, no blaze was discovered.

Lewiston Denies Charge

Leonard Lewiston, arraigned in county court late Monday afternoon on a charge of arson, entered a plea of not guilty and Judge Brindley set his examination for Wednesday morning. Bail of $1,000 was requested. Lewiston is a north side man and is alleged to have set fire to the Powell barn.

—The La Crosse Tribune and Leader-Press, La Crosse, Wisconsin, January 23, 1917, page 4.

An Alarm Wrist Watch That Heats Up To Wake You

1920

Alarm Wrist Watch

With an alarm wrist watch is supplied an electric battery to awaken a sleeper at a designated time by sending a current through and warming a strip of metal on his arm.


In Common Things

A man must invest himself near at hand and in common things, and be content with a steady and moderate return, if he would know the blessedness of a cheerful heart and the sweetness of a walk over the round earth. —John Burroughs.


Where He Shows

Chester was slow in wit, but he appreciated the aptness of speech in one of his playmates, evidently, for when asked why he was anxious to be in Jack's company so much he replied, "Oh, everything he says has a kick in it."

—Bedford Gazette, Bedford, Pennsylvania, January 9, 1920, page 4.