Generally (and normally) I like to think of the yesteryear in Vermilion as being peaceful, idyllic – crime free. I prefer wearing rose colored glasses and view the proverbial glass as always being half-full, knowing full well that it’s not always so.

For instance, in the early spring of 1877 a young Vermilion kid (he was but 19) named Joshua Kalb murdered young Vermilion jeweler Elijah DeWitt (he was 25) during a botched robbery of his store on Main Street. Kalb was convicted of 2nd degree murder and given a life sentence. That sentence was reduced to just 18 years by Ohio Governor Joseph B. Foraker in 1889. Then in 1896 two Vermilion men – William Shipley and Morris “Jib” Snyder – were placed under arrest for the murder of a 20-year-old Elyria, Ohio man named William Champney. This pair of nincompoops had pushed Champney down a set of stairs while drunk and tried to get rid of the body by stuffing sand inside the pockets of his clothing and pushing him off the shore into Lake Erie. While the charges against Snyder were later dismissed Shipley was not as fortunate. He was convicted of manslaughter and received a 10-year vacation in the Ohio Pen.

Well, everything was hunky-dory then – at least until March of 1907 when two wannabe grifters giving their names as Dell Miller, of Cincinnati, and Thomas Smith of Cleveland checked into the Wagner Hotel [currently Dr. Suszko’s building behind the Main Street Soda Grill on Main Street].

Then on Friday morning, after leaving their grips at the hotel,  they went to L. J. Decker’s horse livery [now the site of the Ritter Library] and hired a horse and buggy to ostensibly drive to nearby Ceylon on a matter of business. After failing to return, the men were traced, found in Sandusky and promptly jailed. It seems that the horse they had rented had dropped dead about four miles south of Sandusky, having been over driven; the men had then sold the buggy for $13 and pawned the harness for $3. It turned out that the pair had used fictitious names [Who’d have thunk it?]. One of them claimed to have a brother living at Long Beach, Ca., and thought that if he was contacted, he would pay the damages. The men had also forgotten to pay their hotel bill. In addition, the loss for the Decker Livery was about $275 (around $7000 today). Their rooms in the “ol crowbar hotel” for some time forward was paid in full and, therefore, guaranteed.

It should be known that some of these unseemly activities had at their root a common cause. That was namely “alcohol” – which given the blatant stupidity and ineptness of the actors speaks for itself. So, it should surprise few persons to learn that in 1912 people were clamoring for “law and order” to be firmly established in Vermilion. [Note: It might help matters to understand that the alcohol dispute between the “Wets” and the “Drys” had been becoming louder for some years prior.] Responding to this overt demand of the townsfolk for “Law and Order” local industrialist and head Vermilion cheerleader, F.W. Wakefield ran for the office of Village Mayor using it as his slogan. And he won.

To be candid, a slogan is just a slogan. It’s not that Vermilion was, or had become, a lawless town over the years. It was more a matter of public perception and administrative style. The previous Mayor, Squire H.R. Williams, was an attorney who was hardly inclined to ignore flagrant criminal behavior. But it appears that some may have thought him too easy going. Ergo, Mr. Wakefield took office.

One of the first notable things done by the new administration was to cite local summer resort owner, George H. Blanchat, with being the unlawful keeper of a place where liquor was sold on Sunday in ”Violation of the act of the Gen. Assembly of the State of Ohio”.

The following week apparently in answer to those who had been asking why others who dealt in selling liquid refreshments in the village proper on Sundays were not also “looked after”, warrants were served, and those persons were taken before Mayor Wakefield, All the arrests came as a surprise as apparently no one in town excepting the parties directly interested in securing evidence knew what was going on. And often a remark was heard that despite the change in administration there was little change in most things for which the change in administration was made. [Note: For some reason some were under the impression that having supported this Mayor they were immune from prosecution.] But Mayor Wakefield proved to be an equal opportunity administrator. And slogan or no slogan, true crime did not look the other way for anyone.

A few days later, in the early hours of the morning, Guy S. Davis heard a noise and looking out of his apartment window over his shop [pictured. It is currently the site of Friendship Park] saw lights flashing on the corner near the M. E. Church [currently the new parking lot on southeast corner of Liberty and Grand Streets]. Thinking something was wrong he went below into his store and called central to notify the Marshal. It took some time to arouse the operator and then things began to happen. I

The town Marshal M. Gross who had been at the Electric Depot then walked up the hill toward the corner opposite Unser and Seeley’s General Store (currently city offices). Hearing a whistle, he flashed his light that was answered by shots from a revolver. He replied by emptying his gun and then ran back to the electric station to telephone for help. Soon a number of men were out, but the robbers had fled. It turned out that the Post Office [currently part of the Soda Grill] had been ransacked and a quantity of stamps taken, the value of which at the time was estimated at probably $100.

Also, Louis Englebry’s clothing store [currently the Art Seen] had been entered and the strongbox of the safe taken out. This was found later at the Methodist Church it is supposed that the robber had started to run with it and not seeing a railing there had fallen over it, scattering its contents over the ground. Back at Unser & Seeley’s it was found that the robbers had been working on the safe, had knocked off the combination, one handle and were preparing to blow it when discovered. The shots fired by the Marshal, had gone through a plate glass window at the Unser-Seeley store. Another had entered a side window of Hart’s Drug Store [currently Lee’s Landing] and yet another had struck the door. No trace of the miscreants was ever found. But it was reported that a handcar was ready at the Nickel Plate where the Yegg’s (i.e. safecraker’s) had secured their tools.

A hundred or so years later I can still place my rose-tinted glasses on my nose and look around town knowing that while things weren’t perfect in the past and are hardly perfect today, there is really no other place I’d rather be. It’s home.

© RNT March 30, 2009