Brookport's Leadership (Mayor's) Through Years

In February 1885, my father sought a dry spot for his family. Paducah was yet well under water as the rise of the Ohio River in 1884 was very slow in receding. As soon as spring arrived and the ground began to settle, Daddy built a house on the corner of Third and Crocket.

There were 18 houses including two substantial brick buildings, one of which was a grocery store and dry goods store operated by William Pell. Thomas Alexander, who was the postmaster, owned the post office building. The town was Brooklyn but the post office was Pellonia.

About this time, Uncle Harve Smith, our first colored citizen, moved into a house just outside of town. He had five boys and a delicate little baby girl who had cost her mother’s life. Uncle Havre was an honest hard working and respected citizen. Later on, he built a small blacksmith shop on the lot adjoining our home. (It was on the site where A.T. Kerr’s Dry Good would be built at the corner of Third and Crockett.)

My father had built a playhouse for me in the small wooded park in front of our house and there I played day in and day out and watched the sparks fly from Uncle Harve’s anvil and listened to its musical ring.

We had no church house but from the nearby towns, laymen came at intervals and preached to the men, women and children gathered at the schoolhouse. The schoolhouse was a one-story frame building consisting of one large room painted white, one large east window just back of the teacher’s desk. Then, there were double doors in the west end with the belfry above. There was a deep slope where we coasted on our sleds in the winter. (This building sat on the corner of Fourth and Crockett.)

In the summer, there were picnics. A well-shaded place would be selected and an inch or two of sawdust would be spread for the dancing. A stand would be built for the striped stick candy, popcorn and peanuts and a barrel of ice-cold pink lemonade. Shady places were chosen where basket dinners were served. The violins and other musical instruments were tuned and the picnic was in full swing.  The young ladies would be wearing their summer dresses that smelled of pristine freshness, tucked and ruffled with wide skirts ballooning over hoops. The basques fitted snugly, extending about two inches below the tightly corseted waistlines. The young men wore summer suits of seersucker or linen with the indispensable boiled shirts and starched collars.

In the winter season, social activities ran riot. There were sleigh rides, ice-skating, parlor dancing, play-parties and the very popular wedding anniversaries. Out-of-town guests came in carriages, wagons or sleighs, according to the weather conditions.

In my mind’s eye, I again see that long table covered with snowy linen, groaning In the middle, a beneath its load of food. home-cured, home-baked ham, flanked with mounds of potatoes whipped to a creamy whiteness, sweet potatoes dripping with real butter and honey, a bean pot filled with beans baked with fresh ham, molasses and spices, pies open-faced and covered and pound cakes. Also there were boilers of steaming, home-roasted coffee, which when poured over the rich cream from the family cow, was nectar fit for a king. After another hour of music and friendly conversation, we went home to our downy cots to dream of hours well spent.

In 1887, Brookport was alerted to the fact that the Cairo short line, a branch of the ICRR, was coming through here and would transfer the trains by boat to Paducah. The railroad came, bringing a number of fine families. Most of them built homes and remained.

I remember well the day the first train came. About 10 a.m., the whistles of the nearby town began shrieking their welcome and soon the G.W. Parker with clouds of black smoke belching from her smokestack and full throated blasts from her whistle rounded gracefully in and landed at the cradle.

Everyone rushed to the small station in the woods at the end of George Street, which is now a part of the Highway. The train stopped, the engine uncoupled and went into the roundhouse. Now, steaming and puffing her importance came the yard engine, the little “49.” She coupled onto the cars, sounded her approach and was answered by the deep bass whistle of the transfer. She loaded the train, the first railway train to cross the Ohio River at this point. The coming of the railroad was an incentive to Brooklyn to become an important river town.

A few years later, things happened fast. Our harbor was lined with steamboats, loading and unloading crossties, pig iron, lumber and coal. Deckhands running up and down the gangplanks were sweating and swaying and singing old time spirituals. The melody mingled with voices of the captain and mates shouting orders.

Brooklyn was coming into her own. Expansion! Expansion! We must expand and expand we did. There were land auctions. The Postlewaites, Nortons and Caldwells of Paducah surveyed their property in Brooklyn and sold building lots at nominal prices. Farmland changed hands rapidly and was soon cleared for planting. Homes and business houses sprang up. Then, in the year 1892, we became known as an incorporated town.

Being an incorporated city, we had our civic rights. Dr. J. D. Young was elected mayor and councilmen were chosen. Dwight R. Stone was now equipped with baton and badge, indicating his authority as city marshal. The city also chose a police magistrate to assist in law enforcement and my father, R. A. Deegan, was chosen for this office.

When I was fifteen, my father took me in with him, teaching me the simple legalities of civil law enforcement. My father would scan my writing very closely and if I made one mistake, I simply had to rewrite the document. The office was in our home. There was no profanity and no misdemeanor was ever permitted.

Working with my father kept me in touch with and alerted to the progress of the town. We now ranked with the larger railroad tie, timber and lumber companies. Ayer and Lord established the first railroad tie plant and Chapman and Margraves, the first lumber company. Buying land and house building to the extent that it was necessary to extend the corporate limits to include what was known as the Chapman and Margraves addition.

In 1896, G. Lay Wolf, with the late J. L. Hall, being associate editor, published our first newspaper. This paper was considered one of the best newssheets ever published in Massac County at that time.

The year 1907 was time for rejoicing. Brooklyn now had its own public water system. The businessman headed and largely financed by the Chapman and Margraves Corporation launched this enterprise. We now had a deep well, furnishing plenty of water.

In 1909. we began hoping for electricity. Then we put away our coal oil lamps, replacing them with bright lights, which indeed gave us a citified air. Were we snooty now? Well, just a little.

Following closely were concrete walks. New residences, schools, churches, business houses sprang up and again the corporate limits were extended. We had gained a grain elevator, ice plant and canning factory, more lumber mills and button shops. In view of the fact that Brooklyn was one of the largest railroad ties, lumber and timber ports on the Ohio River, the name Brooklyn was changed to Brookport.

This is a sketch of the early progress and development of Brookport. It is evening now. The sun is casing his last handful of golden arrows before sinking behind the mauve and gray curtain of early twilight. I seem to hear again the ring of Uncle Harve’s anvil. I hear the soft lowing of the cows wandering homeward, cropping the lush green grass. The church bell is ringing now, calling the villagers to weekly prayer meeting, their lanterns gleaming through the leafy green of the trees.

Goodnight now to all the fine upright men and women of the past and goodnight again to all the outstanding men and women of the present who are working for the betterment of Brookport.

– Abbie Deegan McMahan