By the beginning of March, 1925, the people of Syracuse could have been forgiven if they were a little tired of Mother Nature.
It was as if the city had been cursed.
One of the worst snowstorms in the city’s history had paralyzed the city beginning on January 29, dropping in some places three feet of snow and forcing people into the streets to shovel out if they wanted to get anywhere.
A mild stretch in February had brought only more hardships when many places in Onondaga County were crippled by floods.
“Scores of families are temporarily homeless, hundreds of acres of land is still inundated, thousands of dollars’ worth of property has been damaged or destroyed,” the Syracuse Herald reported on Feb. 12, 1925, “and inconvenience and even suffering has been carried into many widely-separated communities.”
And then, at 9:22 on the evening of February 28, the earth moved in Syracuse for 32 terrifying seconds.
The Charlevoix-Kamouraska earthquake of 1925 was centered near Quebec Province of Canada, along the St. Lawrence River.
It was measured at 6.2 on the “moment magnitude scale,” forerunner of the Richter Scale, and was felt as far south as Virginia and as far west as the Mississippi River.
A child checks out damage from the Feb. 28, 1925, Charlevoix-Kamouraska earthquake. Photo was taken in Shawinigan, Quebec.
In Syracuse, it was called the most severe quake in the city’s history, and although there was little damage reported, it did give people in town a good jolt.
“Hundreds of men and women fled from their homes, audiences rushed excitedly out of theaters, hotel patrons sought refuge in the streets and occupants of downtown office buildings stormed stairways and elevators in fear of general building collapse,” the Herald reported.
Pictures and knick-knacks were thrown from tables and shelves, dishes broke, and plaster cracked.
At the Citizens Club, games of billiards were interrupted by the balls rolling out of control. The clocks stopped on the fifth floor of the Herald building and at the City Bank Building, workers on the seventh floor were “attacked by nausea and dizziness” as a result of the heaving of the structure.
At Syracuse’s main hospitals, patients awoke in terror, many believing they were about to suffer a fainting spell. Interns on duty hurried through the corridors and tried to keep the excited patients in their beds.
A potentially scary situation happened at the Kernan Theater on Oswego Street, where a motion picture was being shown.
When the quake started, a woman shouted “Fire!” sending hundreds of people stampeding for the exits. There were no injuries.
The earthquake was big news in the March 1, 1925 Herald despite little damage and no injuries.
In the days before 24-hour news websites and social media, there was little idea of what was happening, but people still wanted to know what was going on.
The people of 1925 could not look at their cell phones, so they called their local newspaper offices:
“An avalanche of telephone calls without precedent in the history of Syracuse, totally swamped the switchboard at the Syracuse Herald office as countless thousands made frantic attempts to learn the cause of the earth tremors last night. For more than two hours telephone communication was almost impossible, but operators bravely attempted to cope with the deluge.”
Besides wanting to know what was happening, many wanted to tell their story.
Charles Kalietsky, living on the sixth floor of the James Apartments, said the building swayed violently.
Mary Murphy, of West Belden Avenue, was using her sewing machine at the time, until the quake caused it to roll away.
Thurston Bjornsson, of 1246 South State Street, said his home rocked for several seconds and reported that six valuable china dishes fell from his china closet and smashed on the floor.
“I was in the kitchen when I noticed the stove begin to shake and I felt the house tremble,” Mrs. Hymie Hayman of 514 Madison Street told a reporter. “My husband, sitting in a chair, was shimmying. I looked at him, and he looked at me, and then I went ran of the house to see what I could see.”
While its people were scared by the earthquake, the city’s infrastructure held up remarkably well.
The only notable damage was a broken window at the F.W. Woolworth’s store and the steeple at St. Patrick’s Roman Catholic Church on Lowell Avenue and Schuyler Street, which been “weakened and ripped loose from some of its supports by the earth movement.”
The following morning’s Sunday services were interrupted by Superintendent Wellington Taber, Bureau of Buildings, who ordered the congregation to the parish school shortly after communion.
Rev. John Koslor, insisted on finishing the service at the altar alone, assisted by two acolytes.
The people of Syracuse hat much to contend with in February 1925. Blizzards, floods, earthquakes and giant sewer rats which attacked your legs.
ATTACK OF SEWER RATS
Enduring blizzards, floods and earthquakes, the people of Syracuse must have thought that the city was cursed during the first two months of 1925.
As if those things were not enough, there were reports of giant sewer rats attacking unsuspecting businessmen at night, adding to the sense that the city was going through something like the plagues from the Bible.
On Feb. 28, 1925, the same day as the earthquake, the Herald had the following on the front page, right below the quake story.
A cat-size sewer rat is at large in the vicinity of Union Avenue and Townsend Street, according to J.M. Schneider, 613 East Willow Street, who says he was attacked by the rodent early Friday morning.
Schneider’s story comes on the heels of numerous complaints of sewer rate being driven to the surface by the recent floods.
Mr. Schneider says: “I was on my way home from work about 3:30 o’clock Friday morning when I heard something following a short distance behind me. Turning I thought it was a stray cat and continued towards my home.
“As I reached Union Avenue and Townsend Street the animal clutched the leg of my trousers. I shook it off and when it lunged at me again, I kicked it into the streets. As the rays of the streetlight shined on the animal I was satisfied it was a large rat, almost the size of a cat. Turning I ran into the house.”
READ MORE
1925: Killer snowstorm paralyzed Syracuse with 27.5 inches of snow in 24 hours
1920: After 41 years of service, 79-year-old Syracuse letter carrier calls in sick
This feature is a part of CNY Nostalgia, a section on syracuse.com. Send your ideas and curiosities to Johnathan Croyle at jcroyle@syracuse.com or call 315-427-3958.
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