The Fireman's Hall of Philadelphia

Somewhere buried deep in a box of our household goods stored in Tucson lies the Chicago Fire Department badge worn during the long career of Virgil Jacobson, my husband's grandfather.  Perhaps hearing of him as a young bride is what sparked my interest in firefighters. 

Or, maybe I caught the firefighting bug younger than that by listening to the stories my own dad told me of daily hanging out at the neighborhood fire station after finishing his newspaper delivery route in Hutchinson, KS, his contribution to the family's income during the Great Depression when my grandfather moved the family off the farm to the city in search of work. 

Then again, my interest might stem from the summer a group of Hotshot Firefighters set up a command post in the parking lot of Esperero Canyon Middle School where I taught as they feverishly worked to contain a wildfire sparked by a Tucson thunderstorm (all lightning, no rain!) that threatened to engulf the neighborhood. 

No doubt, every American alive on September 11, 2001 now reveres the bravery and sacrifices of the New York City Fire Department whose firemen rushed to rescue as many victims of that tragedy as they possibly could. 

The Fireman's Hall
147 North 2nd Street, Philadelphia, PA

Whatever past experience prompted my interest in firemen, I was motivated to walk a block north of the typical Philadelphia tourist route stop on Elfreth's Alley so I could pay a visit to The Fireman's Hall, a restored firehouse that now houses a firefighting museum.  (I tried to create a map of my route so I could embed it here, but the map I made was too big to embed so if you'd like a quick look at it, click here.)

This visit made me appreciate William Penn's original plans for his "City of Brotherly Love," for Penn mapped out a "greene countrie towne" with broad, straight streets, positioning each house squarely in the center of its plot so each yard could act as a firebreak. 

The Carousel in Franklin Square
Once the carousel capitol of the world when the companies of Dentzel, Philadelphia Toboggan and Muller headquartered here in the late 19th and 20th centuries, Philadelphia boasts of its Philadelphia Style, carousels with large, realistic animal figures.

Penn also added the green parks now named Franklin Square and Washington Square to augment the open space of his new city and to alleviate the possibility of fire wiping out his new settlement. Of course over time, Phildadelphia property owners have subdivided and sold sublots, filling in Penn's original, generous plots until a dense, inner city was created.  Automobile ownership allowed prosperous city dwellers to flee to the suburbs after World War II, but thankfully the city's leaders instituted an urban renewal plan in the 1960s and 1970s that kept William Penn's plan intact and revitalized the city's center.

Washington Square's current tranquility belies its past use as a burial ground for Revolutionary War soldiers and 1793 yellow fever epidemic victims.

Tomb of the Unknown Revolutionary Soldier
in Washington Square

Philadelphia is the birthplace of the Union Fire Company, the first volunteer fire brigade in Colonial America, established by Benjamin Franklin in 1736. 

Benjamin Franklin

A placard in the hall tells the story of Franklin's Union Fire Company: "Initially, its members formed to protect one another's property, but within a couple years it provided city-wide assistance in the event of a fire. Each member equipped himself with salvage bags and buckets. Social as well as philanthropic in nature and limited in the size of its membership, the Union Fire Company proved so popular that other similiar fire companies formed, modeling their organization on that of the Union. Merchants and ministers joined cordwainers and recent immigrants in their common goal of fighting fires."

Inside the Fireman's Hall, I found restored fire carts, wagons, pumpers and early fire engines.

I was tempted to try out the fire pole I found in the second-story conference room, but the safety plexiglass covering the opening prevented me.

Conference Room with Fire Pole

I learned about Benjamin Franklin's ingenious proposal to sell fire marks to Philadelphia homeowners as a way to finance the fire company. 

Fire Mark from the Philadelphia Fire Association

Subscribers to Franklin's plan received a fire mark to mount on the front facade of their home to ensure that the firemen who rushed to the scene would attempt to fight the blaze to the best of their ability. 

Do you see the fire mark in the center of this photo
of Josiah Elfreth's house built in 1789?

Many buildings in the Old City neighborhood still sport an iron fire mark on their walls, but others were removed by British soldiers, quartered in Philadelphia during the brutal winter of 1777-1778, who melted the marks down to make ammunition.

Gamewell Joker

The Gamewell Joker above predates calling 9-1-1.   Quoting its placard, here's how it worked:  "If you were to send an alarm from the box at Independence Hall which was numbered 1776, it would be registered on the Gamewell Joker you see here.  The box would send a series of electrical taps to this system.  A single tap, a pause, then seven more taps, a pause, seven taps, a pause and six taps indicating the number 1776.

The brass gong would ring out the taps and they would also be regisered on the paper tape.  A quick glance at the "run" board in the center and firefighters would know if they were to respond and where.

When this firehouse was active, it is said certain fire horses could recognize the signals from the Joker and would begin to ready themselves for the dash to the fire, but only if the alarm was in their district!"

1926 American La France Pumper

Is it any wonder that firefighters fascinate us?  We are all indebted for their service!

"The Coward Dies A Thousand Deaths, The Valiant Die But One"
A Memorial to the Firefighters Killed in the Line of Duty
The Fireman's Hall