Warehouse District - Haymarket

This neighborhood was originally part of Cleveland Township.

The Haymarket District in 1868 (top) and 1906 (bottom)

The actual Haymarket neighborhood is included within the black half circle and red circle.

Note the other streets that are no longer in existence in the 1906 map:

Scowden, Toronto, Chicago, Toledo, Oswego, and Walworth.

1906 Map of the Haymarket Area (with red)

The street names in the map above were changed in 1906 to the following in the map below:

Ohio Street became Carnegie.

Pittsburgh Street became Broadway.

First Street became Hill Street.

There was no Second Street, just a small alley.

Third Street became Berg.

Jerome Alley or Court was between Third Street and Fourth Street.

Fourth Street became Minkon.

Fifth Street became Lane.

Canal Road remained Canal Road.

Seneca/Central Way became West 3rd.

The Haymarket neighborhood was south of Public Square and just south of the intersection of Ontario and Carnegie. It was bounded on the north by Race Avenue and on the south by Stone's Levee and Harrison Street. The west side of this neighborhood ran along the east bank of the Cuyahoga River and was bordered by Ontario/Broadway on the east. Streets in the area were Hill, Berg, Minkon, Lane, Commercial, Seneca, Scowden and Ohio. The Haymarket District began as a market and later became a residential and commercial area. A wooden building was built in 1839 on a four acre site and was the first municipal marketplace at the corner of Michigan and Ontario. Every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday, farmers brought their goods to the market on wagons and would sell produce and hay - thus the name "Haymarket." By 1856, legislation was passed creating an official city market and a permanent market called the Central Market was built at Broadway and Bolivar Streets.

The homes in this area were very cheap and therefore were filled with the transient workers of the docks and to later immigrants who worked in the factories down in the valley. This area was also Cleveland's earliest business section. The right of way of the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad, formerly the Cleveland Terminal and Valley Railroad, formerly was the old canal.  The canal came to the foot of Commercial Street hill. It was for this reason that the dock workers lived in this neighborhood. By 1900, there were 40 different nationalities living in the area. In 1900 the largest population in this neighborhood was Eastern European Jews. By 1914, most of them had abandoned the Haymarket neighborhood and they were replaced by Italians. In order to assist the residents, the YMCA opened the Central Friendly Inn in 1874. In 1878 the Children's Free Medical and Surgical Dispensary opened to provide cold milk for children. The people living in this area were very poor. The deteriorating houses were turned into multi-family tenements. In my own family, I have documented three different families from Prussia, consisting of 17 people, living in one house at 31 1/2 Fourth Street (Minkon today) in 1888. They had just arrived in this country in 1887. One of these families was devastated by Tuberculosis, with six of their seven children dying from that disease. Factories in the area polluted the air and one can imagine that with all those people living on top of each other, it wasn't a very healthy situation. This was not a pleasant place to live. Eventually, this area became the first slum in Cleveland when the oldest housing stock in the city deteriorated.

There were many saloons in this neighborhood, with 30 saloons on Commercial Street alone. It was a common site to see men drinking beer from pails or buckets. A relative of my great-grandfather would send his children to the saloon to get a pail of beer and the child had to run home with it before the foam disappeared. Could you imagine this happening today? Because of this, the Women's Christian Temperance Union became very active in the Haymarket area. The Salvation Army opened a barracks for transient men and poor families. Another important social service agency was the Hiram House. This was opened in 1896 and was first located on the west side of Orange Avenue and later moved to 2713 Orange Avenue. Hiram House had a public shower building as well as a summer camp for children in Moreland Hills. Hiram House closed in the 1940s due to the area being demolished for freeway construction.

Crime was a big problem in the Haymarket neighborhood. Police were known to patrol in twos and threes. A call box system was installed to allow them to call for help. Patrol wagons were at the Central Station to help with hauling away disorderly and drunken people. The Haymarket District was known as the roughest area in Cleveland for quite a while. The Haymarket District's most famous residents were Blinkey Morgan and Johnny Coghlin. These two men were the heads of gangs that terrorized downtown Cleveland. Another famous person from this area was Charles McGill, one of Haymarket's murderers, and the last man to be hanged in the old county jail.  Other murderers of the time were Stephen Hood, who in 1873 killed his six-year old stepson by beating him to death with a club.  One Andrew Doig murdered Molly Knapp after arguing about money.

Not all was bad in the Haymarket District. They would have "concerts on the hill", and in an article by E. Arthur Roberts, he said, "Some of the biggest hearts this city has ever known were to be found in the Haymarket stores and lodging houses." Some of the business establishments in this area were: Samuel Nash's grocery at the foot of Commercial Hill, the White Elephant Theater at Bolivar and E. 4th, and the London House at the foot of Ontario Street. There was also "Gypsy George's", a saloon at the corner of Commercial Road and Berg Avenue. There were seven entrances to his establishment and several underground passages.

The Haymarket District was torn down in the 1920's to accommodate the Cleveland Union Terminal (Terminal Tower Complex). Part of this area also became the Gateway complex, home of Gund Arena (now Quicken Loans Arena), and Jacob's Field.

CHURCHES:  Click here to see church histories and possibly pictures of the churches below

https://sites.google.com/site/faqcuyahogactyresearch/cleveland-pastors-and-their-churches/cleveland-individual-church-histories

THE WAREHOUSE DISTRICT HISTORY

http://www.warehousedistrict.org/

http://www.warehousedistrict.org/history/

The Historic Warehouse District comprises the former wholesale and commercial center of Cleveland. This Victorian district includes warehouses that contained large hardware distributors, marine suppliers and garment manufacturers; smaller wholesale and retail establishments for dry goods, grocers, tool suppliers and ship's chandlers; and major office buildings of the iron, coal, railroad and shipping industries. The garment industry slowly expanded and by the 1920s the city ranked close to New York City as one of the country's leading centers for manufacturing clothing.

Prior to its development in the 1850s, as the commercial heart of Cleveland, the Warehouse District was the residential section of the city. Indeed, Cleveland's earliest residents including Lorenzo Carter, the city's first permanent resident, and Levi Johnson, builder of Cuyahoga County's first courthouse and jail, lived in this part of town. Early residents erected simple, log cabins. However, as the city grew, the structures became more permanent in nature as more and more frame and brick buildings were constructed.

As the city continued to develop, the Warehouse District became home to many renowned hotels and saloons. Weddell House (1847,) the city's first luxury hotel, had offices, stores, several parlors and a large dining room on the first two floors. Located on the corners of Superior Avenue and Bank Street (West 6th,) Weddell House was in the heart of the District. By the 1850s, the residential element of the area began to decline as the District saw the proliferation of warehouses.

The construction of early warehouses was encumbered by limited building technology and only a few examples of 1850s warehouses can be seen today. Most buildings constructed at this time were bearing wall construction. In other words, a structure's walls had to support not only its own weight but also the weight of the floors and roof. With the development of cast iron, architects began to experiment with lighter structures and open facades.

After World War II, the District underwent yet another change as many of the manufacturing industries began to abandon the District. Sadly, many of the warehouses became victim to the wrecking ball. Fortunately, the tide is turning as the District is undergoing a rebirth. The Warehouse District is once again a popular place to live and do business as many of the warehouses are being rehabilitated into residences and commercial offices.

Listed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1982, the Historic Warehouse District is noted for commerce and architecture. Although several buildings were individually listed on the National Register prior to the District's listing, every building within the Historic Warehouse District contributes to the District's overall significance and historical fabric.

The National Register of Historic Places is the federal government's official list of buildings, districts and sites that have contributed to American history, architecture, archeology, engineering and culture and are worthy of preservation. The National Register provides national recognition of the value of historic properties individually and collectively to the Nation. The list is administered by the Secretary of the U.S. Department of the Interior.

http://www.warehousedistrict.org/tour/highlite/

THE HAYMARKET NEIGHBORHOOD HISTORY – From the Encyclopedia of Cleveland History

The Haymarket neighborhood was south of Public Square. It was bounded on the north by Race Avenue and on the south by Stone's Levee and Harrison Street. The west side of this neighborhood ran along the east bank of the Cuyahoga River and was bordered by Ontario/Broadway on the east. Other streets in the area were Hill, Berg, Minkon, Lane, Commercial, Seneca, Scowden and Ohio. The Haymarket District began as a market and later became a residential and commercial area. A wooden building was built in 1839 on a four-acre site and was the first municipal marketplace at the corner of Michigan and Ontario. Every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday, farmers brought their goods to the market on wagons and would sell produce and hay - thus the name "Haymarket." By 1856, legislation was passed creating an official city market and a permanent market was built at Broadway and Bolivar Streets.

The homes in this area were very cheap and therefore were filled with the transient workers of the docks and to later immigrants who worked in the factories down in the valley. This area was also Cleveland's earliest business section. The right of way of the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad, formerly the Cleveland Terminal and Valley Railroad, formerly was the old canal and the canal came to the foot of Commercial Street hill. It was for this reason that the dock workers lived in this neighborhood. By 1900, there were 40 different nationalities living in the area. In 1900 the largest population in this neighborhood was Eastern European Jews. By 1914, most of them had abandoned the Haymarket neighborhood and they were replaced by Italians. In order to assist the residents, the YMCA opened the Central Friendly Inn in 1874. In 1878 the Children's Free Medical and Surgical Dispensary opened as well to provide cold milk for children. The people living in this area were very poor. The deteriorating houses were turned into multi-family tenements. In my own family, I have documented 3 different families from Prussia, consisting of 17 people, living in one house at 31 1/2 Fourth Street (Minkon today) in 1888. They had just arrived in this country in 1887. One of these families was devastated by Tuberculosis, with six of their seven children dying from that disease. Factories in the area polluted the air and one can imagine that with all those people living on top of each other, it wasn't a very healthy situation. This was not a pleasant place to live. Eventually, this area became the first slum in Cleveland when the oldest housing stock in the city deteriorated. 

There were a good number of saloons in this neighborhood, with 30 saloons on Commercial Street alone. It was a common site to see men drinking beer from pails or buckets. A relative of my great-grandfather would send his children to the saloon to get a pail of beer and the child had to run home with it before the foam disappeared. Could you imagine this happening today? Because of this, the Women's Christian Temperance Union became very active in the Haymarket area. The Salvation Army opened a barracks for transient men and poor families as well. Another important service agency was the Hiram House. This was opened in 1896 and was first located on the west side of Orange Avenue and later moved to 2713 Orange Avenue. Hiram House had a public shower building as well as a summer camp for children in Moreland Hills. Hiram House closed in the 1940s due to the area being demolished for freeway construction. 

Crime was a big problem in this area. Police were known to patrol in twos and threes. A call box system was installed to allow them to call for help. Patrol wagons were at the Central Station to help with hauling away disorderly and drunken people. The Haymarket District was known as the roughest area in Cleveland for quite a while. The Haymarket District's most famous residents were Blinkey Morgan and Johnny Coghlin. These two men were the heads of gangs that terrorized downtown Cleveland. Another famous person from this area was Charles McGill, the last man to be hanged in the old county jail. He was one of Haymarket's murderers. Other murderers of the time were Stephen Hood, who in 1873 killed his six-year old stepson by beating him to death with a club. Andrew Doig murdered Molly Knapp after arguing about money. 

But, not all was bad in the Haymarket District. They would have "concerts on the hill", and as mentioned in the article by E. Arthur Roberts, he said, "Some of the biggest hearts this city has ever known were to be found in the Haymarket stores and lodging houses." Some of the business establishments in this area were: Samuel Nash's grocery at the foot of Commercial Hill, the White Elephant Theater at Bolivar and E. 4th, and the London House at the foot of Ontario Street. There was also "Gypsy George's", a saloon at the corner of Commercial Road and Berg Avenue. There were seven entrances to his establishment and several underground passages.

The Haymarket District was torn down in the 1920's to accommodate the Cleveland Union Terminal (Terminal Tower Complex). Part of this area also became the Gateway complex, home of Gund Arena (now Quicken Loans Arena), and Jacob's Field.

The Haymarket – From Neighborhood Link

The area to the west and south of the Public Square and to the east of the Cuyahoga River, was traditionally known as the Haymarket. It began as a marketplace, where eventually a residential, business, and commercial district developed, and which, as the oldest housing stock in the city deteriorated, became Cleveland's first slum.

The area was developed after 1839 at the intersection of Michigan and Ontario Streets. The open-air market at which farmers sold produce and hay from the backs of wagons, met on Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday. Farmers began gathering before sun-up on the 4-acre site. By 1856, the city fathers passed legislation in city council, creating an official city market and allocating funds for the construction of a permanent market building at Pittsburgh (Broadway) and Bolivar Streets.

Cheap housing made the area appealing to the transient workers of the docks and later to immigrants. By 1900, 40 different nationalities could be found in the area and social workers had to be familiar with a total of 14 different languages in order to be able to communicate with the population. Most of the immigrants were drawn into a cycle of poverty. The deteriorating housing was turned into multi-family tenements, and transients, derelicts, and criminals rubbed shoulders with newly arrived immigrants from Eastern Europe. Factories in the nearby Flats polluted the air and the skies were constantly gray.

Commercial buildings and small businesses mingled on the main streets with residential, social, and religious institutions. Saloons were by far the most plentiful commercial enterprise. Thirty saloons were located on Commercial Street alone. It was not an uncommon sight to see men and women drinking beer while walking on the street or seated at the curbside drinking from pails or buckets. Beer was cheap. For a nickel, you could get a two-quart pail at almost any saloon in the neighborhood. Because of the ready availability of alcohol and its open use, the Women Christian Temperance Union made the Haymarket area a target of their reform movement, opening temperance reading rooms in the area. The Young Women's Christian Association opened the Friendly Inn at Central Place in 1874. Founded as a wholesome gathering place free from the evils of liquor, this social agency, at first provided a reading room where temperance tracts were available, and a meeting hall for men and boys. Later a restaurant, kindergarten, playground, children's library, and commercial laundry were added to the complex, but the emphasis remained on providing cheap clean lodging for drunks, and chapel services and nightly temperance meetings for the men of the neighborhood and their families. Social workers at the Inn taught women and children basic housekeeping and child care and provided bathing facilities for men and vocational training for boys. By 1907, the Inn added a children's dispensary to its complex. Each immigrant group had their own department within the Inn structure headed by a person who spoke their language. Classes in American speech, customs, and law were provided to new arrivals to ready them for citizenship.

Store front canteens were opened by a number of religious groups and the Salvation Army opened a barracks for transient men and poor families, displaced from their home for one reason or another. A free dispensary for children was established, as well as a milk dispensary where mothers who had no refrigeration in their homes could obtain fresh milk for their children.

Besides the Friendly Inn, the other important social service agency in the Haymarket was Hiram House. Established in 1896 as an outgrowth of a class project among a group of Hiram College students, it was first located in a temporary structure on the west side of Orange Avenue. Eventually a permanent structure was erected at 2713 Orange Avenue. In 1900 the largest percentage of the population was Eastern European Jews. By 1914, most of these immigrants had abandoned the Haymarket area and were replaced by Italians, who made up 93 % of the population. In the post-World War I era, African-Americans from the South replaced the Italians and other white European ethnics in large numbers. The Italians helped to popularize the sale of fresh fruits and vegetables in the area, selling items such as oranges, bananas, olive oil, and garlic from stands in the Central Market, and pushcarts and wagons along the city streets.

George Bellamy, head of Hiram House from 1897 to 1946, was able to obtain substantial monetary backing from the prominent families of the city. He used the funds to build additional structures on land adjacent to the main building, including a public shower complex, as well as to purchase a rural camp in Moreland Hills, where children from the area would be taken during the hot summer months. Eventually Hiram House expanded its program into the city schools, creating satellite social service agencies. As the population of the area dwindled in the 1940s due to urban renewal and city demolition for freeway construction, Hiram House finally ceased operation in the area as a social service agency, although the rural camp still operates today.

The Haymarket was a rough and ready place. Crime was rampant and people ventured out on the streets at night only in a dire emergency. Police patrolled in twos and threes and a newly installed call box system allowed them to call for help if needed. Patrol wagons were available nearby at the Central Station to haul away drunken and disorderly citizens. By 1894 the city had established a mounted unit, and the policeman and his horse became a common site on the streets of the Haymarket. By 1890 the city's population had exceeded 350,000, a good portion of which was located in the crowded Haymarket area. 355 policemen in 12 different precincts across the city administered the law and keep the peace, but the roughest area was still acknowledged to be the Haymarket.

Today much of this area is covered by Gateway, the Tower City Complex, and the Innerbelt. The population of immigrants has been dispersed to other areas of Cleveland and to the suburbs, but the history of the Haymarket still remains. 

NEWSPAPER ARTICLES

January 24, 1895 – Plain Dealer

PITIFUL – Homes of Poverty and Haunts of Vice in Our Own City

A Vivid and Suggestive Story

How Law is Defied, Morality and Decency Are Ignored, Childhood is Contaminated and Youth Destroyed – What is the Remedy?  A Study for All Who Love Their Kind.

The elegant mansions on our broad avenue, the many equally beautiful and even luxurious residences on less pretentious streets and the thousands of humble but comfortable homes all over our city are just cause for civic pride.  But a sight of some of the places where little children live and learn and become like those around them, where mothers toil in hopeless penury, where vice flaunts itself in horrid guise, would cause anyone who cares for the fair fame, for the best interests of our city, to blush for shame, if not to tremble with fear for its future.

Recent visits in the Haymarket region brought to our knowledge such conditions as we could not have believed to exist had not our own eyes borne testimony to the facts.  The following sketches are not exaggerations; the lines are too lightly rather than too heavily drawn.  Neither do they represent extreme and very rare cases; they may be matched in scores – we may safely say in hundreds of instances.  Will the reader look at some of these just after the late storm, which had covered with the mantle of snow some of the repulsiveness we could easily imagine. 

A long narrow passageway between two old houses that appear to be but a series of rooms, added one after another to the original poor little building, as successive tenants could be persuaded to pretend to make a home in one or two, as the case might be, of the low, dark rooms.  So, all through the passage every few feet doors opened each into a different home, but in all the same dreadful sights.  Puny infants, bloated, blear eyed men and women; pretty faced little children, but squalor and filth everywhere.  At the end of the passage a flight of narrow, rickety stairs led to the upper tenements.  In one of these we found a man who had much to say of his efforts to get work, but who, as we were told, had been raving drunk all night on the dollar he had earned the day before.  Think of trying to sleep in such a neighborhood as that!

A side entrance from another narrow passageway, two steps down from the street, brought us into a room, dark indeed, but with light enough to reveal such an accumulation of diet as would prove that not scrubbing, nor even sweeping, was part of the household employments.  As we entered the mother was laboring to raise from the floor an overturned chair, into which was tied a half-grown boy, who was twisting and writhing in contortions that were most distressing to witness.  When the boy was placed again upon the chair the uncontrollable swaying of arms and legs and rolling of the head continued while we talked with the mother.  “The sick boy was her oldest child; there were eight others; he was a good boy; he’d been so always’ they said he was incurable, but he knew as much as any of the children.  Her husband worked when he could get anything to do; he was good to his children, sent them to school and did the best he could.  Sometimes he couldn’t earn even 50 cents a day, and then the children cried for bread and she would not have even 5 cents to buy a loaf.”  And here the mother’s eyes overflowed – and wisely or unwisely several small coins came forth just then from the pockets of the visitors and were laid in the hand of the poor boy, who clutched them nervously and with half articulated words expressed his joy.  This woman seemed discouraged and incapable rather than vicious or lazy.

Through alleys and rear alleys crowded thick with houses little more than huts, our guide led us to a low doorway, which he opened, and then stepped back for us to enter, as only one at a time could find standing room within.  There were two rooms, each six feet by eight, and but a single window.  A stove on which, as appeared, some cornmeal mush was cooking, a dirty lounge and a small table filled all the space, except that occupied by the woman – a good looking Bohemian – who held a baby in her arms, while three other bright little ones with bare feet and scant clothing huddled about her.  Her husband was killed not long ago.  She had five children to feed.  Two of them could go to school if they had shoes.  A big, brawny man sat on the lounge, seemingly more interested in the contents of the supper kettle than anything else.  What was his relation to the family we did not learn.  He was evidently one more to eat, whether adding anything to the resources or not.

In one place visited there were signs of neatness and even an attempt at decoration.  It was one of those same wretched huts in the backyard off a back alley, but the little living room had a coat of pale blue whitewash on its walls.  There were two or three little pictures with kindergarten chains of pink and blue paper hung gracefully between them.  The man, who had an honest and somewhat intelligent face, was at work on a work bench, and showed a pastry board he had tried all the day before to sell.  The woman was pale and sick.  No wonder, as we thought, when we saw her bare feet on the cold floor.  The boy, who went to school, had to wear her shoes.  There were six children here.  One little fellow, imitating his father, was bravely pounding his tiny fingers in the effort to drive a nail with the stove lifter.  Here were only two small rooms in which this family of eight, who evidently wanted to be decent, must eat and sleep and work.  Without any qualms of conscience in this case lest we should be doing harm rather than good, we brightened for a little the sick woman’s face and had a sweet “thank you” lisped from the pretty baby boy.  “What a place for such a father and mother to rear these bright, beautiful children!” we exclaimed, as we turned away from the miserable, but, we believed, honest and decent home.

It was a dark rainy night, when to walk upon the slippery streets was at peril of life and limb.  Into a small, dirty, hot place, very near to one of the city’s thoroughfares, four Christian women went.  The bar and the rows of bottles told what is the business carried on and the appearance of the big, coarse, bestial man in charge indicated plainly enough that he was one of his own best customers.  Opposite the bar two women sat; the one, a gross, brazen faced mulatto, perhaps thirty years old; the other a German, younger in years, as well as in sin, was evidently touched in her better nature by the kind, earnest words spoken to her.  Instead of the bold, defiant air of the older woman, she seemed ashamed, and said she wanted to leave her present life.  A young boy, seeing that he was not to be called upon to serve the visitors in the usual way, busied himself in a back room, until the dear old hymn, “Jesus, Lover of My Soul,” was begun, when, coming where the group of singers stood, he joined with full, sweet voice in the words he had learned in some gospel meeting “before I went into this business.”

A similar room in the same locality; four men around a table playing cards, while the bartender is just bringing in from an adjoining room empty bottles and glasses.  The half-open door discloses a small hallway, from which a staircase ascends and into which a half dozen girls soon gather, curious to see who is making such unaccustomed visit.  There is no cessation of the card playing, while a sweet gospel visitation is sung, and a few words of prayer spoken.  No response is made to the earnest pleading to turn away from sinful ways, but after repeating that blessed truth, “God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son that whosoever believeth in Him might not perish but have everlasting life,” the party of Christian women went out into the storm, with the prayer in their hearts that some word spoken or sung might touch the conscience and be used by the Holy Spirit in regenerating power.

The sound of music comes out upon the night air from across the street.  Cautiously making our way along we enter the front door and pass behind the screen meant to protect the inmates from the view of passersby.  Beyond the rows of bottles whose contents are surely known by the odors that fill the place, past the burly bartender and two or three customers, we go on into a room in which is an attempt at fine furniture and hangings.  A piano and violin are being played to some rollicking air and on the sofas are seated two young girls of not more than sixteen years and boys of eighteen or possibly twenty.  The dress, the attitudes, the air, told all too plainly whose house we were in.  While one of the visitors prayed, the girls left the room.

A young man of perhaps twenty-five years had come in from the saloon, drawn perhaps by the singing or praying.  He was fine looking, well dressed, and evidently touched by the sight of women out on such an errand, on such a night.  To one who said to him, “Are you always going on in this kind of life?” he replied, “No, I don’t intend to.”  “When is the best time to stop?”  After a moment’s hesitation, “Now, I suppose.”  “Will you stop now?”  The fine brown eyes filled with tears and an inward struggle going on was evident.  “Perhaps your mother was a Christian!”  “She is one.”  “She may be praying for you now!”

“Very likely she is.”  “Will you go right away from this place now?”  The strong frame trembled, the eyes overflowed, and turning quickly away he left the room.

This time it was a woman of perhaps forty years who faced us as we passed behind the curtains that separated the saloon from the other place.  She was probably handsome when young, but her face was cold, hard, defiant.  She wore a white dress with yellow ribbons; in her ears and at her throat brilliant diamonds gleamed.  Younger women were in the room and several men, while in the bar room was a woman gorgeously arrayed and bedizened with all the falseness which seeks by the semblance of beauty to cover the hideousness of vice.  Four young men were listening to her blandishments, while they drank the liquor that would take away their sense of shame, their power to resist the evil to which the false temptress was enticing them.

Another scene:  A low, dirty room about twenty feet square, situated on a side hill.  Boisterous shouts mingled with ribald jests and horrid oaths.  The place is crowded in suffocation, black and white, old and young, men and women indiscriminately mingled, dancing to the music of a squeaky violin, while others stand about the bar drinking.  A little girl, not more than six years old, bare footed, ragged, dirty, was just leaving with a pitcher of beer, sold to her, without doubt, in direct violation of law; while amidst the crowd of bloated, drunken sots was a small boy with a face as sweet and beautiful as could anywhere be found.  The child looked as much out of place here as would an angel from heaven in the heart of hell.  Drawing him away from the horrid sounds we asked:  “Why are you here in this dreadful place, dear child?”  “Oh, I like to hear the music,” was his innocent reply.

In another and larger saloon, not less than fifteen boys, all evidently under eighteen years of age, were playing cards and drinking.  The law makes it an offense punishable with heavy fine or imprisonment to sell liquor to minors, or even to allow them to come into saloons unless upon lawful business.  Surely no lawful business brought those fifteen boys into that saloon that night all at once.  If proof were wanting that the saloon is an open door leading to gambling, licentiousness and other crimes, it was easily obtained by anyone who would visit the saloons of this city.  He would find that in many if not in most cases a side staircase or a back passage leads to gambling rooms, wine parlors, and places of illicit resort.  In the nature of things, indulgence in the vice of intemperance leads to the breaking down of character, of the power to resist temptation to other vices.

In the problem that awaits a solution from Cleveland’s strongest brains and purest hearts, one very difficult and complicated equation is found in the condition of the very poor, and certainly another in that of the vicious classes.  Can either of these equations be eliminated?  Tenement houses with some adequate provision for cleanliness for good air, and against such herding together of all ages and both sexes, as is now found, might help to answer that question.  Compulsory education, not alone in books but in industries and moralities, will go far toward answering it as regards the children in these homes.  Will not a faithful enforcement of the laws which deal with the vices that fester and breed in our city render it easier to control and keep in check the vicious and criminal element in our body politic, if not entirely to eliminate it?  May the future speedily bring an affirmative answer!  Mary E. Ingersoll

July 24, 1895 – Plain Dealer

The Disreputable Residents Must Leave or Go to the Workhouse and They Prefer to do the Former

The inhabitants of the portion of the condemned tenderloin district which lies along Lake and Wood streets, are unhappy mortals.  Many of the disorderly houses which have flourished in times past, when the strings of police court pulled less taut, are now forced to close and quit their infamous business, or else find territory untramped by the blue coated representatives of peace and order.  Many houses have been ordered suppressed and have been given a time limit to pack up and get out.  A few months ago, the disreputable portion of Seneca street hill was purified by suppression, and now it is quiet at night and free from revelry and disorder.  The scarlet houses in the Haymarket district, on Canal Street and those in other parts of the city have thus far been allowed to continue in peace, except for an occasional raid by the police.  It is probably that this order of things will continue until the resorts are complained of by residents of the neighborhood. 

October 27, 1895 – Plain Dealer

About the Haymarket

An electric light, the central viaduct, with its attendant increase of street traffic and the combined influence of religious services and institutions has metamorphosed the old haymarket region from a cesspool of crime, immorality and degradation into a district which now has a fair share of mercantile life and business activity.

Twenty, even fifteen, years ago the haymarket region enjoyed the unenviable reputation of being one of the toughest and hardest regions between New York and Chicago.  Although continually watched by the police, crime was committed in every conceivable manner – from the brutal holdup and murder to the greater and more repulsive perpetrations.  Commercial Hill, Cleveland’s toughest locality at the present time, has improved wonderfully within the last fifteen years, while Berg Street Hill, which extends at right angles from Commercial Street, has somewhat deteriorated.  But neither of these streets can compare with the old haymarket in its palmy days, before street car or traffic had penetrated its gloominess.  At that time the haymarket was located between Hill, Addison, Ontario Streets, and Central Avenue.  The central viaduct had not been built, the Broadway Mills were not located at the end of Viaduct Street, and the street cars didn’t round the corner at Ontario Street and Centralway.

There was no particular necessity for an electric light; no one went into the district after dark for any good purpose.  The long lines of red glassed windows, the squeaking harsh sound of a dozen old fiddles, the tin pan clang of a dozen antiquated pianos, the ribald joke, the harsh laugh and screeching voices of dissolate women, attested the character of the neighborhood.  The “Black Stag,” “Jack Joshua’s Place,” “Pony Smart’s Joint,” and the houses kept by Bob Lee and Bill Anderson, all of them the roughest of rough dives, were well known by the police and carefully watched.  Patrolmen did not saunter through the dark alleys, the innumerable byways and paths of the district alone; they invariably went in couples and often in squads.  These were the days before the innovation of the patrol wagon and the police exchange system.  When an arrest was made the prisoner had to be dragged through the streets to the central station, and often a woman, crazed with drink, would be dragged into the turnkey’s room by four or five stalwart officers, well-nigh divested of her only garment, a slouchy, dirty wrapper, it having been torn off in the fight.

But then came the Salvation Army and the Central Friendly Inn.  Mayor McKisson followed and with the religious services and demonstrations a slight improvement was noticed, but it was not encouraging.  The red lights still burned, crime was still perpetrated, lewd women were still in evidence.  During the day, the district would be comparatively quiet.  Aside from scores of hay-laden wagons and a congregation of farmers, the conspicuous number of saloons, nothing particular could be noticed, except a small army of dirty children, who played around the wagons, wallowed in the mud, cursed and swore lustily and enjoyed all the opportunities of the environment to have a jolly good time.

When the project of building the Central viaduct was agitated and work finally commenced, the change became perceptible and when traffic was opened, the aspect was encouraging.  Traffic over the new bridge was heavy.  The haymarket was in plain view of one of the city’s most important thoroughfares.  The street cars came next and then the electric light.  The last improvement proved a death blow to the more vicious element in the neighborhood.  Gradually the red lights disappeared, gradually the saloon was supplanted by a little grocery or notion store and more frequently by second-hand shops.

Of the many dens which encircled the haymarket, but six or seven remain, and the general appearance of the locality impresses one with the existence of poverty rather than crime.  A cluster of shanties between the Central Viaduct and the end of Central Avenue is conspicuous by reason of their tumble-down appearance.  The lack of uniformity, the fact that the front doors of several of them face each other, conveys the idea that they have been dropped there by chance and that chance is responsible for their occupancy.  An appearance of utter neglect, the absence of any indication of paint, the loose shingles, the bits of cloth and board nailed over the kinks and crevices attests the indifference of the people.  On the south side of the market are a number of saloons, relics of the past.  Broken steps, worm eaten doors and an occasional sign advertising the superior merits of some particular brand of whisky, and the permeating odor of stale beer and bad cheese is in substance their description.  The bars are old, dirty, and sticky, decorated here and there by cheap glass decanters and dirty glasses.  Her and there a cracked mirror shows a past extravagance.

Near the Central Viaduct, between Viaduct and Harrison streets, is a peculiarly shaped three-story block.  In the corner room is a barber shop and a flaming red sign proclaims that a man can be shaved for a nickel and have his hair shorn for an additional 5 cents.  The rest of the block is occupied by saloons.  On Hill Street there are several more small grog shops, but the few disreputable houses are fast disappearing.

The police have succeeded in gaining perfect control over the district and the trips of the patrol wagon to box No. 36 are not at all frequent.

February 22, 1896 – Plain Dealer

Suffering - Tenement District Residents Cannot Keep Warm and Need Clothing Badly.

Central Friendly Inn ladies offer to distribute garments. 

Some of the scenes witnessed in the Rickety Houses.  The biting cold is not a pleasure to those who are scantily clothed.  With the intense cold of this week great suffering has been felt, the tenement district, near the Haymarket, suffering.  Mrs. W.J. Sheppard and Mrs. E.C. Worthington of the Central Friendly Inn have been making visits to the district and reliving the suffering by furnishing what clothing they have received, but the demand is far in excess of the supply.  It would be hard to enumerate the poverty, filth and suffering of this neighborhood.  Those places, which, by a very great diversion could be classed as tenements, should be improved by the owners who rent them, and others should be demolished, and proper, decent places for a human being to live in be provided.  We believe this district should be cleaned, that is, the alleys and yards and the work given to men who now live in them and can work and who say they will if they can. We found a mother and five children, one in arms, and she was the only provider.  There is nothing that the family does not need.  There is another family, the father of which is a consumptive.  The mother can do washing and scrubbing, but this, she says, she cannot always get.   In one place a family with six children was found huddling around a miserable stove in a miserable room.  Four of the children were without shoes and stockings and huddled together in an effort to withstand the cold winds which found an entrance through the cracks in the building. 

November 22, 1896 – Plain Dealer

A Thanksgiving Story

"Speaking of Thanksgiving," said a police officer in the first precinct who has been connected with the department for many years, "I can tell you of a little experience I had a year ago that I will remember as long as I live.  "It was while doing patrol duty in the Haymarket district that I became acquainted with a family by the name of Garland, and around this family center the incidents of the little story which I am about to relate.  The Garland family consisted of the old mother who was blind, her little girl about nine years old, and last, a son named Jakey, who was twelve years old and upon whom the welfare of the family depended.  It goes without saying that the family was very poor and that the existence of its three members was one of continual hardship.  Two small rooms on the first floor of a rickety tenement house located on a street near the Haymarket composed the home of the unfortunate family, and in these rooms the old blind woman and her two children while away their evening hours.  I say hours, for they spent very little time at home during the day. 

"Jakey, who, to my mind, was the most interesting member of the family, sold papers and blacked boots on the streets all day, while his blind mother sat on the Public Square on such days as the weather would permit and ground doleful music out of a small hand organ.  The little girl was too young to work and attended school most of the time.  Jakey's highest ambition was to furnish means for his sister to obtain an education, and the boy would sacrifice mot anything in order that his sister might be warmly clad in cold weather.

"It happened that I used to see Jakey and his mother nearly every day when they were going to and from their work.  I took quite an interest in them and became well acquainted with Jakey.  Whenever I would meet him on the street and he was alone he would stop and talk, telling me about his family and how he worked to support his mother and sister.  He was like the average boy that makes a living by selling papers on the streets in a good many respects, that is, he was full of slang expressions and ready to fight any of his competitors in business. 

About a week before Thanksgiving Day last year, I met Jakey on the street and he said "Gee, but I wish I could get a turnkey for next Thursday and surprise de folks.  I've been saving up all de stuff I could and think maybe I'll have enough to buy one somehow."  I told the boy I hoped he would be successful and thought no more about the matter until two days before Thanksgiving when I noticed him coming up Ontario Street with something swung over his shoulder.  I asked what he had and he said, "Oh, I got a turk as I was telling you about."  I asked him where he got it and he said, "Oh, de man over there in that store on de corner give it to me."  How did he give it to you, I asked.  "Well, it was like this.  I goes into de store and tells him I want to buy a turkey.  He laughed at me first and asked me how much stuff I had to blow in.  I told him I had been saving and was going to surprise de folks wid it, and what does he do but go and pick out this here one and tells me to take it along.  He wouldn't take a red for it either.

I congratulated him upon his good luck and he went whistling away.  That night when I went to the station the lieutenant informed me that the proprietor of a meat market had complained to him that several turkeys had been stolen from his market late that afternoon.  Of course, my thoughts at once turned to Jakey Garland.  I couldn't believe it possible that Jakey had stolen the turkey.  It was my duty, however, to tell the lieutenant that I had seen a boy on Ontario Street with a turkey.  He ordered me to place him under arrest until the proprietor of the market could be notified and asked as to the truth of Jakey's story.  I never hated to do anything so in my life as I did to arrest that boy because I was sure in my own mind that he was not guilty. 

When I informed Jakey of my unpleasant mission after arriving at his home, there was a scene such as words cannot describe.  Jakey protested his innocence while his mother and sister wept pitifully.  "I finally succeeded in persuading Jakey to accompany me to the station where he was compelled to remain overnight.  The next morning the proprietor called and when he saw Jakey he remembered him as the boy to whom he had presented the turkey.  Jakey was then the happiest boy in Cleveland.  I told him that it came out just as I thought it would and then nothing would do but that I must come and eat dinner with him and his family.  A few days later I met Jakey on the street, and he told me what a good time he and his mother and sister had on Thanksgiving day and that he intended that they should celebration like that every year. Charles Strong.

July 24, 1905 – Plain Dealer

ELIMINATE THE WHOLE SECTION – Only Solution Judge Sees for the Congestion of Cross Alley Region – Would Tear Down Hovels and Use Land for Park and Playgrounds.

A half hundred naked children were playing in Cross Alley yesterday.  Rolling in the dust and dirt of the unpaved passageway, tossing handfuls of the dirt in each other’s hair and faces, they fought and laughed, cried bitterly and screamed for joy while their parents looked on and applauded, little realizing that in each handful of dust lingered germs that might any day carry off their offspring in death.

Cross Alley is one of the worst of the streets and alleyways in the “Haymarket” district.  Others are bad, and a fine eye is needed to assign the superlative to any particular street in the district.  The “homes” that front on the alley were practically all at one time the wood and coal sheds of the houses that face on Hill and Minkon Streets.

Little effort has been made by the owners of the property to improve the condition of their old fuel houses for the benefit of the residents of the alley.  Here, halfway down the alley, is a lean-to with no floor but the clay soil.  There is an entrance from the dusty and dirty alley through a plank door hanging by one rusty hinge.

The home is but one room.  A woman was sitting before the door when her visitors arrived.  With an incoherent mumble she stood aside and looked askance at them as they entered.  A half dozen scantily clad little children ranging in age from a year to eight years came scurrying to their mother from all directions.

In one corner of the room was a broken camp cot with a torn portion of camp mattress covering it.  An undersized cook stove, held up from the ground by bricks, had its outlet for smoke through a rift in the ceiling that a tall man would brush with his head.  There were no tables, one chair and a bundle of rags and straw in another corner, where the children crawled for their sleep.

The “home” is but typical of scores more on Hill Street, and Minkon and the alleys between the two and Broadway.  No yards, no grass, no playground but the cobblestone streets for the children.  There is little attempt at sanitation.  Ashes, refuse and garbage of weeks’ accumulation is thrown indiscriminately on the small stretches of ground that separate the shacks from each other.  Under the windows are piles of garbage.  In through the rear doors come odors that suffocate the chance visitor.

The social settlement workers, the charity workers, the juvenile court and the philanthropic bodies of the city are hunting some solution for the problem.

“I can see no escape from the problem, but condemnation of the district,” says Judge T.H. Bushnell of the juvenile court.  “Let the city erect a park on the site of the worst section of the district.  The cost would be small compared to the lives of children that would be saved, and two objects would be accomplished.  The worst slum section of the city would be eradicated and a playground and breathing place would be provided for the children of the other districts surrounding it.

“Two or three acres between Hill and Minkon Streets or between Hill Street and Broadway would make an excellent breathing spot for these children and their parents.”

The only public playground for this entire general district, with a population of more than 30,000 people, lies along Broadway above the Nickel Plate passenger station.  It is little but a strip on the top of the bluff and has no shade or bit of green.  A few swings and “teeters” are placed about the grounds, but owing to the intense heat of the place in summer, it is only available in the evening.

July 28, 1905 – Plain Dealer

Children Learn Crimes in Slums - Haymarket District Serious Problem for Social Settlement Workers.

The slums furnish many of those children who are called to the bar of the juvenile court.  This record of crime seems to be growing rather than diminishing, despite the growth of the work of the social settlements, the juvenile court and the police.  With their playground on the streets, not the sight of a blade of grass from one week's end to another's, the children who have played in the dirt, slept in dirt, lived in dirt from their earliest days, seem to turn to wrongdoing and with blunted conscience and absence of moral training persist in evil until taken for the preservation of society, and possible saving of their bodies and souls, they are brought into court.  The statistics of the Hill Street district, the worst slum district in the city, are appalling with their figures of youthful offenders.  Bounded by Hill and Minkon and Cross and Commercial Streets, the district is composed of six city squares.  Within its borders exist an army of thousands of people.  Tier upon tier of houses rise from the bluffs one above the other.  Mere shacks, with cracks through which the snow or the rain may go, dozens of humans are crowded into three and four rooms.  Sanitation there is none. Refuse is thrown from the rear doors and against the doors of the lean-to adjoining.  There is city water on each lot, but this comes from a pipe through the ground and the earth for several feet about is tramped into a mire by countless feet.  The streets are dirty, and down Cross Street from Broadway runs an open wooden sewer.  No covering, no guard about it, a stench arises from it that permeates all the surrounding tenements.  The alleys, freighted heavier with children than even the streets, are inches deep in dust, and with each tramping of the children in play, clouds of the suffocating dirt grinds its way into and settles on the scant furniture of the she homes that open from the passageway.

It is in these surroundings that the juvenile court and police find the preponderance of their youthful offenders.  Hill Street, with its 3 squares, had 22 children in the court for the six months ended June 30.  Cross Street, with its single square, had six; Berg Street, slightly shorter than Hill, had ten, and Minkon, lying down by the canal, and with houses only on one side of the street, had five.  During the portion of July that has passed this proportion of arrests has been maintained.  While there are other districts in the city where children are bad, the number does not compare to that of the "Haymarket".  West River and Mulberry streets furnish numbers; Orange and Irving streets, in the same general district as Hill and Berg Street, have their quota in the state institutions for youth, but in no section of the city is social settlement work as difficult, missionary work so unfruitful and police authority so ridiculed as in the six little squares comprising the "Haymarket district."  The district remains squalid, dirty, unsanitary, immoral, contented in itself and seemingly not alarmed by the conditions that take its children through death by the score.

May 20, 1912 – Plain Dealer

Twenty-three years ago, Sanford Alden formed his first boy's club in an East End Church.  After a few years he decided that he was needed own in the Haymarket District where the streets are full of neglected boys, and ten years ago he rented a little upstairs room on the crest of Vinegar Hill and hung out the sign "Boy's Club".  In the early days of the Vinegar Hill club the average attendance was forty boys, some of whom were homeless and some with homes that were worse than none.  Most of them were boys who were learning the lore of the streets.  Down along the river in the Haymarket district, in the very hotbeds of vice, these were the haunts of many of those whom Mr. Alden called his boys.  Older boys and men were training these boys to steal and worse, and Mr. Alden and his kind were not wanted.  Twice was Mr. Alden shot at in the midnight hours, and once he was beaten so badly that he was confined to his bed for several days, blind and bruised.   Mr. Alden went into this work that he has loved with an enthusiasm that has never waned.  At last, his boys' club is on its feet, the rooms are comfortable, he has nine volunteer helpers, classes in carpentry, mechanical drawing and gymnastics are conducted, and Mr. Alden's modest dream is realized after 23 years of patient struggle with an unsympathetic world which has refused to understand.  One of the boys, for example, Mike Monor, drifted into the club 16 years ago with a group of newsboys, and for 16 years he has been Mr. Alden's right-hand man. 

December 22, 1918 – Plain Dealer

NEXT FIVE YEARS WILL SEE MANY CHANGES ON SQUARE

Union Passenger Depot to Match Hotel Cleveland in Architecture; Will Restore Many Abandoned Streets to City

The picture on this page shows the southwest corner of the Public Square, as it may be expected to appear within five years.  At the right may be seen the new Hotel Cleveland, in the angel and stretching along the south side of the southwest section of the square, the building which the Cleveland Union Terminals Co., wishes to erect as a union passenger station for Cleveland.

The building of the new union passenger station, and particularly the freight relief program which is bound up with the depot project, will result in the literal making over of a section of which Cleveland is none too proud.  It will require, before the combined developments are finished, a great area long Ontario Street, and it will put this land to work to make the city go.

Much of the district affected lies in what has long been known as the Haymarket section, oftener known in the records of the police and fire departments than any other districts within the city.  This land is to be used in the creation of high-level freight facilities, and here it is that the bulk of the proposed street vacations will be made.

The street which must be vacated if the big improvement is to go forward hand, for the most part, precariously to the side of the hill which drops into the valley south and east of Central Viaduct.  Parts of many of these streets, indeed, do not hang at all.  They drop.

Harrison Street, Hill Avenue, Commercial Road, Berg Street, and Minkon Street are affected most.  They are streets whose very names are unfamiliar to most Clevelanders.  You can see them from Central Viaduct as you pass above the flats.  You are not likely to visit them.

Mostly, though, you look from the old viaduct across the tops of a few old buildings and the roofs of many old, old shacks which were once, perhaps, attractive residences in the days when Broadway was the main business thoroughfare of Cleveland and the Ohio canal did a flourishing passenger business.  And most of these houses, social workers complain, shelter all too many families.

Streets scheduled for vacation, and for a renewed era of true usefulness, include:  Harrison Street from Central Avenue to Canal Road; Andes Court, from Central Avenue to E. 9th Street (this is an alley back of Broadway); Hill Avenue, from Broadway to E. 9th Street; Commercial Road, from Hill Avenue to Canal Road; Berg Street, from Commercial Road to E. 9th Street and beyond to Canal Road; Minkon Street, from Commercial Road to E. 9th Street; Lane Street, from Commercial Road to Canal Road; E. 9th Street, from Broadway to Canal Road.

This last is the fag end of a street which cannot be recognized as a usable thoroughfare.  It is, really, a precipitous cut-bank.  Canal Road, sections of which are to be vacated, is to be replaced by a more modern and convenient street, built by the Terminals company and dedicated to the city, as a permanent improvement which shall provide more easy access and egress to and from the flats.

Canal Road, for years, has been almost overwhelmed by dirt and debris from the hillside above.  Engineers have rebuilt it into a first-class thoroughfare, which is to mount the hill by easy grades to Ontario Street.  Along Ontario, at the base of the steep hill, it has been divided into two roads, one serving property along the river, and the other reaching the high level at Central Avenue.  Beyond Central, it descends gradually again, to rejoin the parent road beyond Central Viaduct.

This improvement is designed to lessen haulage difficulties in the flats which might result from the closing of W. 3rd Street and Eagle Avenue.  On the last named street a big and complicated rolling roadway stands unused, a monument to a futile effort to get business down into the flats and out again.  Vacation of Eagle Avenue, and a few fag ends and courts which come down from Ontario Street into the flats by means of rickety stairways of Prospect Avenue from Ontario Street to Canal Road; and of Champlain Avenue and West 3rd Street from Superior Avenue to Canal Road, are parts of the union passenger station improvement itself.

Long Avenue is to be retained as part of a new thoroughfare, but it will be a step below Prospect Avenue, which is to be carried northwestward as far as Columbus Road, at the east end of the high-level bridge.  Traffic to and from the flats that now uses the steep W. 3rd Street hill will use Canal Road, and the new street, which will reach Superior by a new thorough fare to be cut through and dedicated to the city midway between W. 3rd and W. 6th Streets.  The hill ends of Huron Road, Race Street, Eagle Avenue and How Avenue will be cleaned out incidental to the construction for the station proper.

On the west side of the Cuyahoga River, and as part of bringing the roads down Walworth Run to the new station, Walworth Avenue will be moved a few feet south, and will become a real street instead of a pretense as today.  Walworth Avenue can be traced only by the sewer manholes.

A fragment of W. 30th Street is to be vacated at this point, where it leads to a dump in a gulley.  Moore Avenue and Hunt Avenue, streets which cling to the top of the river embankment, will be affected for a few yards.  West 22nd street is to be moved in order to furnish an outlet on Lorain Avenue just south of the present junction.

In order to make possible proper support for the new bridge which is to be flung across the river, a section of old Winter Street is to be vacated.  This section, in the flats, was long since swallowed up in railroad tracks.

In the Kingsbury Run section extensions of Canal Road, Hill Avenue and Stanley Road will be eliminated at the point where the passenger station link of railroad connects with the lines coming in from the south and east.

No date – Plain Dealer

Rents are raised, many must move

Families in Haymarket District in Struggle

Hundreds being forced out to make room for rapid transit railway

The congested territory between Central Ave. and Broadway, from the Haymarket to E. 40th St. is rapidly becoming more overcrowded, rents there are being raised from 10% to 15%, and many families are losing out in their struggle to live under decent conditions.  . . . Hundreds of families are being forced to move from homes torn down to make room for the rapid transit railway that is being constructed between Orange Ave. and Broadway.  Many more are moving from tenements and homes condemned by the city.  Nearness to the market districts, where food and clothing may be bought cheaply, convenience of day nurseries for hundreds of families in which the mother must work part of the time, desire to live among others of the same nationality, and lastly, because in this district is about the only one in which two or three-room apartments may be had for $6, $7 and $8 a month are reasons for families remaining in that neighborhood. 

May 13, 1928 – Plain Dealer

The Good Old Days in the Haymarket District

Union Station wipes out one of Cleveland's most Colorful Spots

by J.H. Webb

Building the great terminal railway station that fronts upon the Public Square has swept from Cleveland's "Haymarket" everything but its name.  The name alone is enough to keep alive memories of the district to which farmers once hauled their fragrant crops, grown on the sites of what are now suburban cities, and of the picturesque deeds of criminals who came to infest the place.

Many of the doings of the gangsters who made the old "hill" section of the city their hangout were recorded by the late Alfred Henry Lewis in his "Field Notes of a Reformer." for which he gathered material when he was police prosecutor.  Not only are the gangsters gone, the aging buildings in which they lived and played and plotted and hid have been razed by the wreckers who march ahead of the batteries of steam shovels.

Founders of the city's industry and commerce and political bosses, as well as gangsters thrived in the hill district 40 or 50 years ago.  The old livery stables which once stood along the alleys of Race Avenue and the "dead end" of Central Avenue were used for their original purpose long after the hillside lost its first character, while lodging houses which rendered service for half a century were the abodes of men who toiled in the valley until the building wreckers stormed the hill.

The "Haymarket" was the home of gangsters like "Blinky Morgan, the rendezvous of "Johnny" Coughlan’s followers, who ruled along what is now the white way of E. 9th Street.  These types of men terrorized the whole downtown section in the good old days, when almost every second house on the "hill" was a saloon or a bawdy house, when two quarts of beer cost a jitney and the residents of the region sat on curbstones and rank from pails.  It was in those days, too, that "Paddy the Tough" otherwise Patrick McKernan, strode up and down the "hill" dragging his coat behind him, daring anyone to tread on the garment.

Mrs. Wren presided over the Wren House and swayed gangsters and politicians, while "Gypsy" George flourished in a regular western type of saloon and dance hall, sometimes referred to as Cleveland's first cabaret.

Tom Oakes, an Englishman with a big thick bushy beard, kept the London House at the foot of Ontario Street curing the days when the "dead end" of Central Avenue was known as Ohio Street.  Tom squandered what he earned in a legitimate business by betting on a sorrel trotter which was just fast enough to lose.

"Bonesy" Morris was another of the hillside characters; he once pawned an overcoat off his back to buy a revolved with which he killed "Jim" Handy, a Factory Street saloon keeper. 

While these toughs fought and killed and other denizens of the district quarreled and drank, William F. Newcomb, builder of the Newcomb Building at Ontario Street and Eagle Avenue, was pioneering his foundry business and often had no more than two bits left after his workers were paid their weekly wages.  Close by, where Newcomb accumulated half a million dollars, were the "Horseshoe" the "Sailor Boy" and the "Three Stars," among the best known of the drink shops on the hill.

Amid this squalor, crime and industry, the Friendly Inn stood as a beacon light for the "Haymarket's" frequenters.  No other section of Cleveland offered a more unhappy environment for a nursery for future citizens than the old Haymarket district, yet in this circumscribed area were born a greater number of children than in any other equal territory in the city. 

The refuse of the dirty markets polluted the air and clouds of smoke rolled from puffing freight and passenger locomotives in the flats below.  Neither breathing nor bathing space was considered by the motley denizens of the district overlooking the crooked Cuyahoga River.  Here was the superlative of every known menace to public safety, morality and health; here were the highest death rate, the largest percentage of tuberculosis, and the most truancy - often arising from necessity which forced children into factories and sweat shops; here was the breeding place for every contagion - and the zone of the city's highest birthrate; here were gathered 35 nationalities - aliens.

And amid this hellish scum the Friendly Inn thrived because the keynote of its work was economic reliance.  Thoroughfares like Champlain, Superior, Seneca, Ohio, Michigan, Ontario, Factory, Commercial and others, were familiar to those who read of the city, which became "Smoketown" in the tales written by Lewis.  Persons with whom he was once associated and about whom he wrote were thinly disguised in print.  "Judge Bung," for instance, was easily recognized as Judge Peter Young, who presided over the police court in which Lewis was prosecutor.  Old timers also recognized "The Reverend Mr. Sounding Board," as Alexander Lawlor, keeper of the White House saloon.  Others of Lewis' characters in print included "Patriarch Cram," "Madam Gray" and "Madam Hamilton."

Captain Hoehn, mentioned by name, was the police officer knocked senseless when Blinky Morgan killed Detective William Hulligan with a coupling pin at Ravenna, Ohio in 1887.  Later, Capt. Hoehn was made superintendent of police of Cleveland.

The crimes committed in the Haymarket would fill a volume, while another book might be written around the pioneers of industry and commerce who lived and thrived in the district, or had commercial interests in the valley below.

Many strong policemen paced beats in the Haymarket district when its dwellers terrorized the community, but only one of them was a match for all comers among the gangsters.  He was Henry Brunner, a friend of the ragged kids and tradespeople and never afraid to go alone where two or three fellow officers hesitated to venture.  When Brunner wanted his man, he went single handed and got him.  When Brunner sought an offender the "hill gang" knew Brunner meant what he said and resistance was not offered.

The Haymarket and its environs teem with pioneer history.  Here was Cleveland's earliest business center.  The right of way of the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad, formerly the Cleveland Terminal & Valley Railroad, was once an old canal bed.  Canal boats in early days came to the foot of what was known as "Commercial Hill," where the "callers," as boatmen were then known, and the lake seamen had their lodgings.

An English sociologist, in looking over the Haymarket district several years before its decline, said he had always believed the worst slums of the world were in London, but a glimpse of the Cleveland type convinced him he was wrong.

The Armour Co.'s packing plant, a white tiled structure on the site of the old Wren House, noted as a stopping place for soldiers during the Civil War, when Mrs. Wren ran the place, is to be razed to make way for the terminal station.  Mrs. Wren was one of the leaders of an English colony that squatted on the hill.  Others included the Nashes and Tom Oakes and his brood, which consisted of a large family of three generations.

Ed J. Hanratty, present Sheriff of Cuyahoga County and formerly councilman from the Haymarket ward estimates that Mrs. Wren had due her $200,000 in unpaid lodging and board bills by valley workers she tided over in periods of unemployment.

The Kavanaughs, Martin and Stephen, William and Joseph Newby, and other residents of prominence among the influential families were permanent fixtures.  Martin Kavanaugh became a paving contractor and Steve joined the city fire department.

Farmers who brought jags of hay to town parked their nags and wagons along lower Central Avenue, or Ohio Street, at the Wheeling and Lake Erie Railway tracks.  Until a few years ago a stable in which farmers swapped horses and traded hay remained intact.

"Big Mike" Lukascho, father-in-law of the Ninth Ward's present councilman, Jimmy McGinty was well named, for he stood six feet four and weighed 300 pounds.  He was a local leader among representative of many of the Slavic people who were among the first central Europeans to settle in Cleveland in any great numbers.  "Big Mike's Place," his saloon at Commercial Road and Minkon Street, was their headquarters, their club house and their post office.  And to the proprietor they looked for advice and guidance in this strange new country.

"Gypsy" George, who owned a favorite haunt, played the violin and with a pianist furnished music for dancers in his saloon, which had 17 entrances and several underground passages.  In one of these gruesome passages one of the most horrible murders in the history of the hill district was committed, the victim a man suspected of being a stool pigeon.

Charley McGill, the last man to be hanged in the old county jail in the Public Square, was one of the notorious toughs of the hill district.  McGill shot and killed Mary Kelley in a house on Cross Street.

Frank, alias "Bonesy" Morris, killed James Handy, a saloon keeper, and got a life sentence in the Ohio State prison, but was later paroled.  The murdered man's widow opposed the parole, which was not granted until after her death.  Another notable murder was that committed by Stephen Hood, July 1, 1873, when he took his six-year old stepson, regarded by Hood as an encumbrance to the woods, and beat the boy to death with a club.  Andy Doig murdered "Mollie" Knapp in her room at 39 Central Avenue, November 20, 1900.  He died in the penitentiary.

May 3, 1959 – Plain Dealer

Haymarket, in Freeway Path, Gone Forever

Last traces of Cleveland's once notorious Haymarket District are being wiped away by the steel and concrete sinews of the 35 million dollar a mile Inner Belt Freeway.  As a city measures time, they Haymarket still lived not so long ago.  Forgotten by most Clevelanders, it has faded prematurely in the pages of local history.  What was the Haymarket?

In the beginning, about 1839, it was a Haymarket, and so it remained until the early 1900s when horse liniment began giving way to metal polish for horseless carriages.

Around the Haymarket there grew up a business, commercial and residential district which thrived in the decades when Cleveland turbulently evolved from a Midwest frontier town to a surging metropolis.  At the heart of the Haymarket District was Cleveland's first municipal market house, built 120 years ago this year.  The market place was at Ontario Street and Michigan Street.  The latter (opposite Prospect Ave. S.E.) was one of those which vanished in the birth of the Union Terminal group in the 1920s, even as the Inner Belt is devouring other streets today.

Ironically, on the very spot where farmers used to park their hay wagons there is now a modern "pigeon hole" garage for parking automobiles. 

In the early years there were many fine homes in the Haymarket District.  The Rev. Amadeus Rappe, first Catholic bishop of Cleveland, lived in a rented house near the Haymarket when he came here in 1847 to serve a Catholic population of about 10,000.

The tides of immigration flooding in from Europe after the Civil War fashioned an explosive change in the district.  Penniless, or nearly so, most of the immigrants poured into the Haymarket, which became the caldron where generations of newcomers were to toil and sweat for a niche in the new world.  This done, they moved out and made room in the Haymarket for teeming thousands who followed.

Soon overcrowded, the district became the city's first slum.  An English sociologist, in looking over the Haymarket District several years before its demise, said that he had always believed the worst slums of the world were in London, but that a glimpse of the Cleveland type convinced him he was wrong.

Of the district it was written some years past:

"The refuse of the dirty markets polluted the air and clouds of smoke rolled from puffing freight and passenger locomotives in the Flats below.  Neither breathing nor bathing space was considered by the motley denizens of the district overlooking the crooked Cuyahoga River.

"Here was the superlative of every known menace to public safety, morality, and health; here were the highest death rate, the largest percentage of tuberculosis and the most truancy - often arising from the necessity which forced children into factories and sweat shops; here was the breeding place for every contagion and the zone of the city's highest birth rate; here were gathered 35 nationalities - aliens."

The Haymarket, as one well might expect, became a lawless district.  Crimes committed there would fill a volume.  The Haymarket was the casbah for gangsters like Blinky Morgan, the rendezvous of Johnny Coughlan's followers, who ruled along what is now E. 9th Street and terrorized the whole downtown section in the "good old days."

Almost every other house on the "hill" beneath Ontario Street was a saloon or bawdy house.  Two quarts of beer cost a nickel, and residents of the Haymarket sat on curbstones and drank it from pails.

There was a famed thug, "Paddy the Tough", otherwise known as Patrick McKernan, who strode up and down the streets dragging his coat behind him, daring anyone to treat on the garment.  Frank (Bonesy) Morris was another Haymarket character.  He once pawned an overcoat off his back to buy a revolver with which he killed Jim Handy a saloonkeeper.

Charley McGill, the last man ever hanged in the old county jail on Public Square, was a Haymarket thug who shot and killed Mary Kelley in a house on Cross Street.  Stephen Hood was an infamous Haymarketer who regarded his 6-year old stepson as an encumbrance.  In 1873 he took the boy out into the woods and beat him to death with a club.

Brawny Cleveland policemen did not patrol the district in pairs.  When they invaded the Haymarket they went in threes for their own protection.  There was one notable exception among the bluecoats.  He was Henry Brunner a friend of ragged kids and tradespeople, who was never afraid to go in alone where fellow officers hesitated to venture even in teams.  Brunner would go in single-handed and get his man.  When Brunner moved in, the Haymarket mobsters knew he meant business and no resistance was offered. 

In those days the police emergency wagon was a wheelbarrow in which obstreperous prisoners and drunks often were wheeled to the police station.  At Ontario and Eagle Avenue stood the Wren House, a stopping place for Union officers in Civil War days.  Mrs. Wren, the proprietor, was a member of the Haymarket's English colony.  Many years later the Wren House was taken over by Edward J. Hanratty, who renamed it Newburg House.

Hanratty, in later years to become Cuyahoga County sheriff, was for nearly 30 years undisputed political boss of the Haymarket "hill".  What helped him to that post and helped him stay was a "straight left" that was feared and respected throughout the district.

Of Mrs. Wren, Hanratty once said she had owing to her more than $200,000 in unpaid lodging and board bills of valley factory workers she tided over in periods of unemployment.  "Some of the biggest hearts this city ever has known were to be found in the Haymarket stores and lodging houses," Hanratty once said.

Another celebrity of the district was Councilman James McGinty, known by his constituents as the mayor of Haymarket.  McGinty was the son-in-law of Big Mike Lukascho, whose six feet four and 300 pounds helped make him the local leader of the Slavic settlers in the Haymarket.  His saloon, Big Mike's Place, was at Commercial Road and Minkon Street.  It was the headquarters, clubhouse and post office for the Slavic immigrants, and it was to Big Mike they looked for advice and guidance in the strange new country.

Another popular Haymarket bistro was Gypsy George's place at Commercial Road and Berg Avenue.  There were seven entrances to Gypsy George's and a number of underground passages, all of which could not have made a policeman's life any easier. 

One of the Haymarket's many gruesome murders was committed in one of the underground passages at Gypsy George's, the victim's offense being that he was suspected as a stool pigeon. 

Amid the commerce and industry, the squalor and crime, the Friendly Inn stood as a beacon light for many who were cruelly buffeted in the hurly-burly of Haymarket living.  In the temperance crusade of 1874 fearless women of the Women's Christian Association opened the Friendly Inn in a small rented store on Central Place in the district.  Here was provided a reading room and safe meeting place for idle men and boys.  Later came a restaurant and then a kindergarten, playground and library for children.  In 1888 a new building was erected at Broadway and Central with inexpensive lodgings for derelicts. 

With its constant influx and outflow of immigrant families, the Haymarket was a crucible which did much to mold the burgeoning metropolis.  For all of this, the district has been slighted by historians.  The Haymarket still lives mostly in a few ancient newspaper clippings, and to be sure, in the memory of older Cleveland residents.

The Haymarket was dealt a mortal blow when the Van Sweringen brothers forged ahead with the Union Terminal development.  Building wreckers in the early 1920s cleared out hundreds of houses and other aged structures in which the people of the Haymarket lived and played and plotted.  Vestiges of the district which survived another 30 years are now being blotted out with more finality.

TOUGH, YES, BUT GOOD MEN LIVED IN HAYMARKET

NEW UNION STATION WILL LEAVE BUT A MEMORY OF CLEVELAND'S MOST PICTURESQUE DISTRICT

CRIMES COMMON THERE

BLINKEY MORGAN AND COUGHLIN GANGS MADE "HILL" RENDEVOUS

by E. Arthur Roberts

Old Haymarket soon will be a memory, a memory of pioneer days, of the fragrant aroma of hay that gave the district its name, of the founders of Cleveland's industry and commerce, of political bosses and gangsters.

The Public square passenger station and terminal facilities call for complete elimination of the Haymarket district. It gives Cleveland a much-needed public improvement, but it wipes out an area that fills perhaps the most eventful chapter in the city's history.

To this day there are farmers who haul their hay to "the hill," as older residents still speak of the crest of Commercial Road, S.E. The old livery stables in the alleys of Race Avenue S.E. and the dead end of Central Avenue S.E. sometimes are used for their original purpose and lodging houses that have done the same duty for a half century still are abodes of the men who work in the valley.

But the old Haymarket, immortalized in the fiction of Alfred Henry Lewis, the police prosecutor who secured most of the characters for his "Field Notes of a Reformer" from "the hill," has been a passing memory these many years.

"Twas a Hard District

That was the Haymarket of twenty, thirty, and forty years ago, the time when policemen patrolled "the hill" not in twos but threes---

When "Blinkey" Morgan and "Johnny" Coughlin's gangs had their rendezvous on what is now "the White Way" of E. 9th street and terrorized the whole downtown section ---

When every second house on "the hill" was a saloon or bawdy house---

When two quarts of beer could be bought for a nickel and the populace used to sit on the curbstone drinking from pails---

When "Paddy the Tough," otherwise Patrick McKenna, used to stride up the hill dragging his coat behind him and daring anyone to step on the trailing garment---

When "Big Mike's place," the saloon and grocery store run by Michael Lukascko, father-in-law of Councilman James J. McGinty, was the post office for the Slavish settlers of the district---

When the Wren House, famous in Civil War days was presided over by Mrs. Wren---

Sheriff had Straight Left

When Ed J. Hanratty, now sheriff, took over the Wren House and called it the Newburg house and when the present sheriff had a far-famed "straight left" that helped make him the political boss of "the hill" for nearly thirty years---

When Samuel Nash, father of S.C. Nash, president of the Cleveland Provision Co., had a little grocery at the foot of Commercial hill---

When Johnny Ray was one of the stars at the old White Elephant Theater at Bolivar Rd. and E. 4th street---

When "Gypsy" George ran a regular western bar room and dance hall sometimes referred to in those days as "Cleveland's first cabaret"---

When mule drivers were "skinners" and laborers were "dirt movers" and employers used to recruit their help in the saloons and lodging houses of "the hill"---

When Tom Oakes, the Englishman with the big bushy beard, kept the London House at the foot of Ontario Street. In the days when the dead end of Central was called Ohio street and Tom used to squander the savings of his legitimate business betting on a sorrel trotter which Police Inspector John Rowlands says was "just fast enough to lose him money"---

When "Bonsey" Morris pawned his overcoat to buy a revolver with which he killed James Handy, a Factor street saloonkeeper---

When Italian "hurdy-gurdy" and "hokey-pokey" men ground out "music" and sold ice cream slabs at a penny apiece on "the hill"---

When the police emergency was a wheelbarrow and obstreperous prisoners or helpless "drunks" were wheeled to Central police station---

When William F. Newcomb, who built the Newcomb Building on the corner of Ontario Street and Eagle Avenue S.E. and left nearly a million dollars, frequently had no more than 25 cents as his share after paying the molders at his foundry their weekly wages---

When the old Horse Show, the Sailor Boy, and the Three Stars were the best-known saloons in Cleveland---

That was the Haymarket of the old days. Its passing is more than the severance of a link with old Cleveland. It takes a large slice out of the city's life. It leaves a void in the hearts of men and women to whom "the hill" was home.

"A man had to be tough to live there, but Haymarket produced and housed some very good men as well as some very bad ones," Councilman McGinty said yesterday.

"Jimmy" McGinty has represented the Ninth ward, which includes the Haymarket for ten years. "The mayor of Haymarket" is a title bestowed on him by his constituents. For several years Councilman McGinty organized popular concerts on "the hill." They were a feature of Haymarket life until changing conditions caused their abandonment.

Sheriff Hanratty, who preceded Councilman McGinty as representative of the Ninth had served on term as councilman longer, says, "some of the biggest hearts this city has ever known were to be found in the Haymarket stores and lodging houses."

The Haymarket district does not cover more than three or four acres. It is bound on the north by Race Avenue S.E., on the west by Harrison avenue S.E., on the east by Ontario Street, and on the south by the Central viaduct.

Cleveland histories pay scant attention to Haymarket and none apparently, tell of the origin of the name. Leslie's history, published in 1887, has the following mention of the district:

"For many years the city had no market house. All marketing was done on the streets, principally on Ontario Street, including Michigan and Prospect intersections, and along the south side of the square. There was, however, a small wooden building in the middle of Michigan Street, called the hay market, around which congregated farmers with small jags of hay, the aroma of which is still a memory."

"The council had resolved to take a new departure, purchase market grounds, and build a suitable market house. Commissioners were appointed to select the ground for a central market and on seventh of December, 1856, they reported in favor of the present market grounds at the junction of Pittsburgh (now Broadway) and Bolivar roads. The ground was immediately cleared but the building of the market house was postponed until the following spring."

Yet, notwithstanding the slight of historians, a volume could be written around the Old Haymarket, its characters, its landmarks, its crimes, and its influence on Cleveland life.

Alfred Henry Lewis found material for many absorbing romances and thrilling stories that were published in Pearson's magazine and in book form. Thoroughfares like Champlain, Superior, Seneca, Ohio, Michigan, Ontario, Factory, Commercial, are frequently mentioned although Cleveland becomes "Smoketown."

People with whom he associated are but thinly disguised. For instance, "Judge Lung" is easily recognizable as Judge Peter Young, who presided over the court when Mr. Lewis was police prosecutor. Old residents will also recognize "the Rev. Mr. Sounding-board," "Alderman Lawler, who kept the White Horse Saloon," "Patrick Cram," "Madame Gray," and "Madam Hamilton."

Capt. Hoehn is mentioned by name. He is the same Capt. Hoehn who was knocked senseless when "Blinkey" Morgan killed Detective William Hilligan with a coupling pin on the train at Ravenna in 1887. Capt. Hoehn later became police superintendent.

The crimes of old Haymarket alone would fill a volume. Another might be written around the pioneers of industry in the Haymarket or their interests in the valley below.

Many members of the police force have had "the hill" as their beat, but only one in the old days had any real influence with the tough element of the neighborhood. Henry Brunner was a match for the toughest, but also, he was the children's friend. Where two or three other policemen would hesitate to go, Patrolman Brunner also could go alone. If Brunner wanted a man, he would walk right into a crowded saloon and get him. Any other officer would precipitate a riot, but a beckoning finger was all Brunner needed. That was after he had demonstrated his courage and prowess, after "the hill" knew him to be as kind and gentle as he was fearless. The Haymarket and its environs teem with pioneer history. It was Cleveland's earliest business section. The right of way of the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad, formerly the Cleveland Terminal and Valley Railroad, formerly was the old canal and the canal came to the foot of Commercial Street hill. Here it was that the canallars, as the boatmen were called and the lake seaman, had their lodging spaces.

Years ago, some of the finest residents of Cleveland were in this locality and Bolivar, Huron, Eagle, Garden (now Central Avenue), and Hill streets were the high-classed thoroughfares of the city.

A British sociologist, looking over the Haymarket district a few years ago, said he thought the worst slums in the world were in London until he saw the Haymarket. "The hill" surely has fallen on evil times. Its day had passed.

If anyone is interested to know what the new terminal building will look like when completed they can visit the gray-white brick plant of Armour and Co. at the corner of Ontario Street and Eagle Avenue S.E. When the terminal buildings are completed, the Armour warehouse will be part of them. It was built to fit in with the scheme. Armour's warehouse is the site of the old Wren House, which in Civil War days was a stopping place for Union officers.

Mrs. Wren, the proprietor, was a member of the English colony of "the hill" which included the Nashes and Tom Oakes and his family. Sheriff Hanratty estimated that Mrs. Wren had owed to her not less than $200,000, which represented the unpaid lodging and board bills of valley factory workers, that she tided over periods of unemployment during the many years she ran the Wren House.

The Kavanaughs, Martin and Stephen, William, John and Joseph Mawby, were other old residents of "the hill." Martin Kavanaugh became a paving contractor and Stephen joined the city fire department.

Farmers who used to bring their hay into the market, parked their wagons mostly on lower Central Avenue or Ohio Street, where the thoroughfare comes to a dead end at the Wheeling railroad tracks. Until seven or eight years ago, the stables in alleys around Central Avenue and Race court was where farmers used to swap horses and trade hay.

"Big Mike," father-in-law of Councilman McGinty, was well named. He was six feet four inches tall, and weighed about 300 pounds. He was responsible for the Slavish community on "the hill." "Big Mike's" place was at the corner of Commercial Road and Minkon street, the later named after one of their earlier settlers and property owners of the district.

"Gypsy" George's place was at the corner of Commercial Road and Berg Avenue. The proprietor played the violin and he and a pianist used to furnish the music for the dances in the saloon. There were seven entrances to "Gypsy" George's place, and a number of underground passages. One of the Haymarket's most grewsome [sic] murders was committed in one of these underground passages, the victim being a man suspected of being a "stool pigeon."

Charles McGill, the last man to be hanged in the old county jail, in Public Square, was one of the most notorious of Haymarket's murderers. McGill shot and killed Marty Kelley in a house on Cross Street near Hill Street, December 22, 1877. Frank, alias "Bonsey" Morris shot and killed James Handy, a saloon keeper, on Factory Street hill, now Eagle Avenue, November 24, 1888. He was paroled a few years ago, but not until after the death of Mrs. Handy, who opposed each application Morris made for a parole.

Stephen Hood, on July 17, 1873 committed a particularly brutal murder. He regarded his six-year-old stepson as an encumbrance, and took him to the woods and beat him to death with a club.

Andrew Doig murdered Molly Knapp in her room at 39 Central viaduct, November 27, 1900. Doig, a stone mason, was intoxicated and quarreled with the woman about money. He knocked her down and jumped on her until his clothing and shoes were covered with blood. He was in that condition when police found him the next day. He died in the penitentiary a few years ago, while his application for parole was being considered.

Police have a record of six murders on "the hill" within the last four years. Old Haymarket still clings to its worse traditions, although the "clean-up" instituted by Mayor Farley some years ago did much to relieve the district of some of its worst terrors. A chapter of faithful social service and religious effort was written in the story of the old Haymarket, by Father John Moran, priest for many years at St. Bridget's Church before he moved to Youngstown. One wonders where the crowded tenement dwellers of "the hill" will go when the steam shovel and wrecker drives them from their wretched homes. Cleveland can spare the old Haymarket district in its present condition. It has played its important part in the city's life and the big hearts and sterling qualities of hill pioneers when the evil has been forgotten.

Central Viaduct

The Central Viaduct was built from 1887-1888.  This connected Central Avenue (Carnegie today) to West 14th in Tremont.  On November 16, 1895, a disaster occurred on the Central Viaduct when a streetcar plunged off of it into the Cuyahoga River.

Video from the late 1950s showing the construction of the Innerbelt Bridge:  www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q_jxLMY4HHg&feature=c4-overview&list=UUfs4Y-HU3bvMOYPVNu9rvAw

2013 photo of the end of the old Central Viaduct underneath the new Innerbelt Bridge 

2013 photo of one of the pillars from the Central Viaduct, resting below the new Innerbelt Bridge

Central Market 1940

Sheriff Street Market 1929

405-411 Hill Street

411-501 Hill Street

611 Hill Street

Corner of East 9th and Hill Street

December 4, 1892 Wedding picture at 35 Fourth Street (later Minkon Street).  The wedding of Wilhelmina Flaum and Otto Hallig (lower left).  Rev. Carl Zorn of Zion Evangelical Lutheran Church is in the front row, 3rd from left.  (Photo courtesy of Steve Flaum)

BELOW:  Two 1959 pictures showing the last remnants of the Haymarket District.  These houses were torn down for the Innerbelt Bridge.

The Haymarket area today

2005 Picture of Minkon Street.  It is gone now - taken by the new 2013 Innerbelt Bridge

The End of the Haymarket Neighborhood

As we can see, it was a rough and tumble history for the Haymarket neighborhood.  This area was doomed to failure from the very beginning it seems.  Its downfall began with pieces of it demolished for the construction of the Central Viaduct in 1887-1888.  Then along came the Union Terminal (Terminal Tower) project in 1926-1927 which took more of the Haymarket.  All was stable for a while when in 1959 more of the neighborhood was destroyed for the Innerbelt Bridge project.  The last bit of this neighborhood was taken in 2013 when the Innerbelt Bridge was replaced.  All that remains is a small building at 2515 Canal Road, the Wheeling Freight Depot between Harrison and Commercial Streets, a few train trestles, and remnants of the old Central Viaduct that the powers that be saw fit to leave for history! 

In order to get goods from the river and canal up the Eagle Avenue hill to the market, Smead's Rolling Road was built. 

In this picture we see Strong Cobb (upper left) and Cleveland Provision (2527 Canal Road) lower right.  The two houses to the right of the smokestack in the center of the picture are on Fourth Street aka Minkon.  This photo was taken from the Central Viaduct looking Northeast.  (Photo from Cleveland State University, Michael Schwartz Library Special Collections)

This picture was taken from Cleveland Provision on Canal Road.  You see the train tracks butting up against Minkon, as well as houses on Minkon and the other streets heading up the hill.  (Photo from Cleveland State University, Michael Schwartz Library, Cleveland Memory Project.)

Links:

Cleveland Township Histories:  https://sites.google.com/site/clevelandanditsneighborhoods/home/cuyahoga-county-townships/cleveland-township?authuser=0

History of the Central Viaduct  http://realneo.us/history-of-the-central-viaduct

Eagle Avenue Bridge  http://cyclotram.blogspot.com/2013/06/eagle-avenue-bridge.html

Strong Cobb Building and old Central Viaduct Bridge Abutment  http://realneo.us/blog/jeff-buster/bridge-abutment-feng-shui

Strong Cobb Building (aka Broadway Mills) (Torn down 2012)  http://realneo.us/blog/martha-eakin/save-the-broadway-mills-buiding-from-odot

Strong Cobb Building Demolition  http://www.flickr.com/photos/theclevelandkid24/sets/72157626312089660/#

Strong Cobb was a pharmaceutical company - look at what they produced!  http://antiquecannabisbook.com/Add-13a/StrongCobb.htm

Strong Cobb pictures  http://realneo.us/forum/strong-cobb

Wheeling & Lake Erie Railroad Warehouse - 2769 Commercial Road  http://www.west2k.com/ohpix/clevelandwandlefreight.jpg

Cleveland Provision Company history   http://ech.case.edu/cgi/article.pl?id=CPC4