Animal Farm
No, this is not a take off of the literary classic penned by George Orwell in 1945.
It is, however, sort of a documentary of change as my town, once enchanted by frantic industrialization and growth, began to face the realities of loss. Loss of jobs in coal, coke and rail, loss of business and population as jobs moved away.
In my youth, spanning the 40’s and 50’s it seemed Dawson was struggling to maintain (or regain) it’s identity, even as more and more sagging industry reports affected it’s progress.
The old wooden plank and steel box-frame bridge was eventually replaced with a wider, modern roadway. Council introduced ordinances designed toward structured homeowner morays more so than individual freedoms of the early borough. Early planning and generosity by the wealthy founders and industrialists of the town had endowed =Dawson with streets, lots, city water and sewage of a sort.
But all of the Borough of Dawson and much of the surrounding area was first operated as fertile farmland. Pre-Dawson history attributes ownership to John Smiley, an Irish immigrant who farmed over 300 acres, operated several industries and served seven terms in U.S. Congress.
All of the borough proper was at one time within Smiley’s farmland.
Perhaps the element of Dawson’s agricultural history that survived longest is that of farm animals.
Today, livestock ordinances regulate or negate keeping livestock in the borough, but for a large part of my youth some farm animals lived within the town limits.
Horses could be expected, being the predecessor of early automobiles, and several were kept in existing stables on North Dawson. My dad raised market hogs in nearby Lower Tyrone Township. At one time, he built a huge shed and raised turkeys, also for market. The shed was in our orchard lot. I believe we had about 50 turkeys at a time, and a few chickens. Quite a few homes on my paper route kept chickens in the backyard. And yes, I have been chased by roosters and a duck named Quackers.
At the east end of McGill Avenue, Dick Hardy raised rabbits for commercial sale. I never counted all the rabbits, but cages covered the walls of the garage-sized building. At least 50 or more rabbits were raised and shipped to market at a time. I’m thinking the Easter Bunny probably boycotted that family.
The impetus for this article grew out of several unusual events on North Dawson Hill several years ago. The largest house on the hill, a huge brick structure on Laughlin Street built before the turn of the century, had for many years been the home of the Cochran family.
When the home was sold, the new owner obviously misunderstood the zoning ordinances, and considered the property still farmland. What started as a few chickens dodging cars on McGill and Boyd avenues became goats, sheep and even a few bovines in the level, unfenced lawn.
My mother lived in a one-story bungalow on Boyd Avenue. She was awakened one morning by an unfamiliar sound outside her bedroom window. Pulling back the curtains, she was greeted by a huge bull, a fugitive from the Laughlin Street barnyard, chomping the irises in her flower bed. Fortunately, being a country girl, she thought the incident more amusing than terrifying.
Eventually, the Laughlin Street home was acquired by a young couple who worked for years restoring its original elegance. Today, our quiet town enjoys residential grace rather than the aura of an animal farm … except for a chicken or two!
Roy Hess Sr. is a retired teacher and businessman from Dawson.