Mystery of Lost Aviator Paul Redfern Has Links to Toledo.

A crowd of thousands gather to see Redfern’s Stinson Detroiter prior to his departure from Sea Island. (Redfern Family Collection)

It will be 97 years this summer since the world last heard from Paul Rinaldo Redfern. The dashing young aviator was trying to make history as the first pilot ever to fly nonstop from the North America to South America. Tragically, he did make history, but not the kind he was seeking. Paul Redfern and his Stinson single engine plane vanished into the fog of mystery after he departed an airport in Brunswick Georgia that summer morning of 1927, leaving a behind him, a cheering crowd of well wishers and his worried bride from Toledo. In days to come, the only signs of him came from some reports that Redfern had indeed made it across the Carribean Sea and was spotted just off the coast of Venezuala when he flew low over some Norwegian fishing boats, and dropped some notes, while on a heading towards the mainland. What happened after that brief sighting? Over the next weeks, months and decades, his fate would become the subject of mystery, conjecture, hoaxes, sightings, hope and intrigue. Some say he made it to land, only to crash in the jungle and was severely injured, then taken captive by aboriginal natives in the rainforest. Some say they found pieces of his aircraft, and pieces of his clothing. Others claim there were reports of him taking a wife among the native tribes and having a child. In the end. No one knows for sure. His fate remains as mysterious as other ambition seeking aviators of the day who dared to defy the odds, only to become the stuff of legends.

Who was Paul Redfern and what was his connection to Toledo? To answer the first part of the question; Redfern was a dreamer. An ambitious dreamer. Son of a preacher and educator. His full name was Paul Rinaldo Redfern. Born in 1902 to Blanche and Dr. Frederick Redfern. While raised for part of his life in New York and Ohio, he spent his teenage years in in South Carolina where his father was a dean at  Benedict College. His mother taught English at Benedict. As a child, Paul would show great promise and intellect. He was said to be musical prodigy, his father wrote of him:

At an early age, Paul showed a strong mechanical inclination. His fascination with the violin led him to create one from a cigar box and a single string. He displayed exceptional musical ability by playing any tune that interested him. His unique technique involved holding the cigar-box fiddle between his knees and the staff against his shoulder. By age eleven, his exceptional playing caught the attention of the Idaho press, which featured his achievement and published his picture in a playing position.

Gertrude Hillbrand Redfern, his love from Toledo.

But Paul also had an keen mind for mechanics. He had so much natural talent in the understanding of the science and mechanics of aviation, that as a teenager, he built several small planes and gliders. At 16 years of age, he was asked by the U.S. Army to be a production inspector for their aircraft plant in New Jersey. He stayed with them until 1919. After the World War was over, he returned to South Carolina and finished high school. He build several more airplanes and after he graduated from high school, Paul acquired and flew a Curtiss Jenny JN-4 and a Dehavilland DH-4. It was then he began to realize his boyhood dream of making a living in the cockpit of an airplane. Operating out of the airport in Columbia, South Carolina, Paul started performing acrobatic stunts at county fairs, and became an “aerial advertising artist.” In addition to being a barnstormer, later he would work for the U.S. Customs office in spotting illegal whiskey stills from the air during prohibition. He also began to pioneer the first commercial flights, taking passengers to points North. Canada, New York and Ohio . It is not documented as what took him to Toledo, but by 1925, he had taken up residence in the Glass Cityand likely spent some time with other famous members of this pioneer flying fraternity in Toledo, such as Lincoln Beachey and the great Roy Knabenshue. It is in Toledo where he also flew promotional flights for numerous products, including a cigar company working for cigar salesman, Charles Hillebrand. Redfern’s job was to drop packages of the cigar samples around the city. As the story goes, Hillbrand and his wife invited the young fier over to their home for dinner and that’s when he met their daughter Gertrude. He fell in love at first sight with the pretty auburn haired 20 year old. The attraction was mutual. It didn’t take long for the two of them to begin a relationship and soon, they were married ny January of 1925. They lived for awhile in Toledo, but Paul was offered a job in Georgia and they moved from Toledo to Savannah where he got his job with U.S. customs as a flying revenue agent, finding illegal stills from the air.

Redfern and his wife Gertrude pose with the biplane he built after high school. (Redfern Family Collection)

Redfern obviously loved challenges and with the arrogance of youth, he jumped at the chance to accept a challenge to become the first pilot to fly solo from North to South American, non stop. The year was 1927. Lindberg had just made history flying from the US to Paris. Redfern wanted to break that distance record for a solo flight and this would be that opportunity. It would be a 4600 mile flight and would require at least two-days of being fully awake at the controls. The City of Brunswick Georgia said they would pay 25,000 to the first pilot who could achieve the feat and fly from their nearby airport on Sea Island Beach. It was the same amout that Charles Lindberg had earned just, a few months before. Redfern was certain he could do the same and more.

Barriers to Reaching Brazil

On Wednesday morning, August 25, 1927, Paul Redfern and his wife Gertrude appeared at Sea Island to greet the thousands of well wishers, photographers and reporters who gathered to see him this attempt to set a new long distance flight record. His green and yellow Stinson SM-1 Detroiter monoplane that he purchased from his friend Eddie Stinson in Detroit had been christened “Port of Brunswick”. The signs around the airport exclaimed “Brazil or Bust”.

The arduous journey by air would take him over the Atlantic Ocean and the Carribean and then over the tangled and dangerous jungles of the Amazon rainforest before reaching his destination of Rio De Janeiro. No shortages of hazards were involved.

His marathon flight to Rio de Janeiro would cover 4600 miles, over miles of untamed and hostile jungles and mountains of Brazil.

The daunting itinerary provoked many questions. Could the plane stay aloft for those long hours of operations? Could Redfern stay awake? Even Lindberg admitted that he kept falling asleep on his transAtlantic flight to Paris. If he did crash in the jungle, would he survive? Or would he fall victim to the dangerous animals reptiles, and the hostile natives who inhabited the remote area? Redfern did bring some guns and a rifle with them for that possibility. He even packed some fishing gear and flares. He was undeterred and determined to break Lindberg’s distance record. If he did, he would eclipse that record by a thousand miles. And like Lindberg, in these early days of aviation, there was radio or altimeter or other modern avionics to help navigate. All he had was a compass and a map and a dream. And hopefully enough fuel.

He tried to allay the fears of friends and fears by saying he thought if he should have to crash land in the jungle he could still survive and someday emerge and not to give up on him “if you don’t hear from me maybe for weeks or months”.

Paul Redfern, Bound for Brazil

Paul’s take off from the beach airport in Georgia was officially recorded 12:46 p.m. He taxied the airplane down the beach and then as wife watched with a cheerful smile, the Stinson Detroiter slowly lifted above the horizon and then turned towards the sea on its way to South America. The crowd watched intensely as the planee droned over the water and out of sight. It was written by one reporter that his new Toledo bride, Gertrude Redfern watched tearfully and collapsed into the arms of a friend. Reality was upon her. Her beloved husband, Paul Redfern, was out of her embrace and out of her sight and she didn’t know if she would ever see him again.

The cheerful smile fell from her face and she couldn’t hold back her emotion and sobs. Paul soared over the Atlantic Ocean, heading southeast at 85 miles an hour. He managed to survive the first night in the air and the next morning off the coast of South America he saw a ship below him in the ocean. It was the Norwegian tramp steamer Christian Krohg. He dropped his altitude and descended to the ship and threw package with a note asking for directions to South America. The steamer captain pointed the bow Westward. According to this account, Redfern apparently had succeeded in traversing the miles over the ocean. Then later that day, Lee Dennison, an American engineer, reported seeing his plane, The Port of Brunswick, flying over Venezuela’s Ciudad Bolivar Plaza. But it was not a jubilant sighting. He said the plane was “trailing a thin wisp of black smoke.” If that indeed was Redfern plane, it was the last time it was seen.

Paul Redfern Vanishes

As Redfern was to wing his way south to Rio De Janeiro, hundreds of Brazilians were ready to great him at the airport and carry him into the city. Those in the waiting crowd were Washington Luis, President of Brazil, and Clara Bow, silent movie star. His plan was to drop some flares over the town of Macapa to signal whether or would make it to Rio or try to land at at the alternate site of Pernambuco. It would depend on weather and fuel supply.

As the hours dragged on, however, there were no flares sighted. No flares, nor any sign from the intrepid flier as thousands of people scanned the skies. watching and waiting. With no sighting that third evening, it was apparent that he either had run out of fuel and crashed, or had been forced to make a landing along a 2,500 mile route that stretched from the jungles of the Amazon to the mountains. Over the next days, the world was on edge awaiting some word from Redfern that he was okay. His wife, Gertrude was thrilled with the early story that he had been seen over Venezuela and believed at that time that her husband was safe, wherever, he may be.

Searching for Paul Redfern and the Port of Brunswick

The long days though would turn to long weeks, and the hope would turn to resignation that Redfern’s fate was dubious at best. Over the next ten years, Paul’s family, including his wife, all traveled to the remote area of Brazil in search expeditions to see if they could find some shred of evidence or a clue to provide more information of his whereabouts and whether he was dead or alive. Every now and then, this void of information was filled by bush pilots or missionaries who would come forward with stories that he was seen alive. That he had crash landed and stranded in the jungle. In 1932, an American engineer named Charles Hasler made headline when he claimed that Indian natives were holding an American pilot whose legs had been broken, but the information was so limited that no expedition was organized.

In 1935, another story emerged of a “white man who came out of the sky, had both legs broken, and lived in an Indian village”. Similar accounts surfaced from jungle inhabitants in remote villages. Rescue and search parties formed, but after weeks of exploration, nothing was ever found. Rumors persisted.

The Searches Continue and Hope Lingers

Pilot Art Williams (second from left) led a search in Brazil for Redfern nine years after he disappeared. (Courtesy of the Paul Rinaldo Redfern Aviation Society of Columbia, S.C.)

Pilot Art Williams, in British Guiana, reported that in early 1936, that he passed over an Indian village in Brazil and that the Indians fled into the jungle but he saw “a lone white man standing in the open and waving frantically to the plane.” Williams said he later took a friend and they went back to the area with a small boat in an effort, but says when they finaly got to the village, a heavily armed tribe of Indians met them and they narrowly escaped with their lives.

Another expedition was launched the next year in February 1936, when an American Legion Post in the Panama Canal Zone put together an attempt to find Redfern. CBSNews correspondent James A. Ryan also accompanied the expedition. To pay the trip, the group issued five thousand “Redfern Rescue” stamp covers that had postmarked from Dutch Guiana to sell to stamp collectors. One customer, President Franklin Delano Roosevelt, who bought two of the “Redfern Rescue” covers.

The search effort not only failed but ended in disaster and one man emerged from the jugle to report they found trace of Redfern and that CBS correspondent James Ryan had drowned when his canoe tipped over in a river. 

Wife and Family Suffer From Cruel Hoax

There were more than a dozen search efforts made to find the lost pilot, but none to cold a cruel and the one in 1936 that fanned new hope that Redfern may indeed be alive and living as “white god” among a tribe of natives. It turned out to be nothing more than a despicable hoax.

Alfred Harred, a freelance reporter said he and the former pilot Art William actually found Redfern on in area on the Brazilain border with French Guiana. They said Redfern was living with a tribe of nude Indians and was hobbling around on crutches. His airplane was still hanging in the branches of a big tree.

He says Paul Redfern told them that when he crashed the plane, his legs and arms were broken, but eventually healed and married an Indian woman. He says they had a son. Harred claims that he and Art Williams were chased away from the village because the tribe thought they were going to take Paul redfern away. They fled under the threat of poison arrows and violence. This fantastic story as related by Alfred Harred were spread quickly around the world, it fell apart like a cheap suit in the rain. When reporters tried to contact Art Williams, he denied everything saying he never met Redfern and never met Alred Harred who would eventually admit it was all fiction.

The Final Rescue and Search Attempt

Amelia Earhart

By the fall of 1937, there was yet another massive search effort underway to find yet another missing aviator.   The object of this search: Amelia Earhart who vanished in her Lockheed Model 10 Electra in July of that year. As the world trained its attention on a remote island in the south Pacific where her plane was last heard from on a round the world attempt, the Redfern story seemed to fall to the margins. The world’s press was not as interested it seemed and Redfern’s fate was fading from the newsprint.

That however did not deter Paul Redfern’s family in their quest to get some answers. Ten years had passed but they wanted to try one more time to find their son and Gertrude’s husband. In 1937, they requested New York explorer Theodore J. Waldeck to lead an expedition from British Guiana. This attempt was risky and deadly. The expedition became marooned at a place called Devil’s Hole on the remote Cuyuni River . One of the men on the trip, Dr. Frederick Fox of New York, contracted jungle fever and died. He was buried on site as the others kept travelling until April 27, 1938. On that day, Theodore Waldeck reported that he had found the wreckage of the Port of New Brunswick in Venezuela. He says he could prove that Paul Redfern was in fact dead, but for some reason he never did. So as far as many were concerned, the young aviator’s fate was still unknown. His parents never gave up hoping that someday he might walk out the jungle and walk back into their lives.

His wife Gertrude also held on to hope for many years, but finally, after she too had gone to South America on one of the many expeditions, she also became more convinced that his fate was tragic, and decided it was best to move on with her life, as best she could. While living and working in Detroit, she petitioned a Michigan court to have her husband declared legally deceased. They had no children, and Gertrude never remarried. The Toledo native lived the balance of her life as a single widow and and died in 1981.

.The story of Paul and Gertrude Redfern is hardly recorded in Toledo. More so in Redfern’s South Carolina. At the time, as the drama was unfolding, the Toledo papers heavily covered this local-interest real life adventure mystery. But news stories do have a limited “shelf life”, even one as compelling as this. When Gertrude Redfern passed away in 1981, there was no significant story in the Blade’s obituary, but just a mere mention of the fact of her dead pilot husband’s disappearnce in South America. The story had lost its luster with each passing decade along with the generations of Toledoans who might have followed its many twists and turns.

But Redfern’s tale has been given some new lift in recent years. The world it seems loves a good mystery and this is surely one of them. Will we ever really know what happened? And could there have been a seed of truth in all the reports that he in fact did crash and survived. There are many who still believe the end of the Redfern tale did not end with a fatal plane crash. And that he may have survived. There are others who think he may have veered far off course and the searchers were all loooking in the wrong place. Whatever and wherever his fate, Redfern’s name is now a legend. At Rio de Janiero, there is even a street named for him. Back at home, in South Carolina, his high school in Columbia bears a plaque and a sign in his memory, as does the airfield in Brunswick, Georgia. In South Carolina there is a group called the Paul Rinaldo Redfern Aviation Society. The group reportedly meets every August 25th, at exactly 12:46 p.m., the exact time that Redfern’s Stinson Detroiter, called the “Port of Brunswick” crawled down the runway, lifted into the blue and disappeared over the horizon on that summer morning in 1927. At that appointed time they hold a ceremony and they raise a glass, maybe more, to this one-time Toledo aviation pioneer, wherever he may be.

Paul Redfern and his Father Frederick Redfern in front of the Stinson Detroiter that took him to eternity

The Hidden Corners of Toledo’s Past

THE WEIRD THINGS THAT NEVER MAKE IT INTO THE HISTORY BOOKS

Most stories that become documented as “history” are usually those stories that detail the “important”, events of our area’s timeline.  Normally, we memorialize the benchmarks of the past deemed worthy of remembrance. The formation of our governance, the stories of major wars, the evolution of society and economies and those key people who were stewards of that change.

What is left out and often kicked the margins of time, however, is often the “good stuff”.  The odd ball, the strange, the mysterious, the weird, the contradictions, and sometimes events that just defy logic, convention and laws of nature. The stories the history books forgot.

Here are a few from Northwest Ohio that may challenge your beliefs about our past and any notion you had that Toledo and the area did not have an interesting past.

Toledo Architect designs a Penitentiary Made of Glass

In 1916, Toledo was pretty proud of its reputation as the Glass Capital of the World. So proud that Toledo architects Schreiber an Beelman thought that building a prison completely out of glass was a novel and practical concept. So the plans were drawn up and submitted to the state commission that was considering plans for a new state prison. According the news reports, sociologists thought it was also a good idea.  By using a combination of glass and brick for the cells, the prison could be circular in design and a guard station would be located in the center so one guard could see into the cells from that center point and monitor what was happening.  While it might have been a novel idea, the prison commission apparently had other plans and the dream of a glass prison for Toledo was shattered quickly.

“House of Mystery on Collingwood”

In 1934, the reporters were quick to label it “the House of Mystery”. And that it was. At 1218 Collingwod Blvd, a series of strange events occurred and police were left to wonder what had happened there.  On July the 18^th, a resident of the home, 65 year old Platt Tucker who  often rode a bicycle vanished and police were looking everywhere to find him. It seems as he fell out of sight, police found his 59-year sister, Elma, in a side-yard, unconscious after having been pushed out of an attic window. Fingerprints found in the dust of the windowsill indicate she may have hung there a long time before falling the ground.  During the course of helping her, Police then found a 61 year old sister, Alma, chained to a bed post in a second floor bedroom. The mother and father died about a year before. Police say the house was in a terrible state of disrepair and cleanliness and Alma was not only chained to the bed but had been provided only scraps of bread to eat off the floor.  Platt Tucker, the missing brother returned home the night police discovered the scene, but Tucker managed to slip through their guardposts and made his way off into the darkness.

Eccentric Mystery Man Dies at Toledo State Hospital

All the staff knew about Lynn Johnson was that he had lived at the hospital for 27 years after being admitted for a minor ailment in 1900. But the eccentric Johnson died in a four story fall from a rooftop at the hospital on February 28, 1927. Johnson, it was said never wanted to leave the hospital and stayed on for almost three decades, earning his keep by doing handyman work. He never revealed to anyone where he came from or why he liked living there. He saved all of his money and gave over $600 to the campaign fund to save the hospital.  When children would be discharged from the hospital he would give them a $2 bill in a wooden frame that he had crafted.

Toledo Man is Builder of Lincoln’s Funeral Car

In 1865  Myron Lamson Toledo had a big job to complete.  He had been put in charge of designing and building President Lincoln’s new presidential railroad car, the  “Air Force One” of its day. As the car was nearing completion, in April of 1865, Mr. Lincoln was assassinated at Ford’s Theater in Washington.  Now, it was Mr. Lamson’s duty to convert the car into a funeral car for the dead president.  With Mr. Lincoln’s body to be carried from Washington on a special 180 city tour across the nation to its final resting place in Illinois, the 42-year old Lamson, an enlisted man in the Union Army had little time to spare to prepare for this historic and final trip for Mr. Lincoln.

Myron Lamson

It would be the only time Lincoln would be aboard his special car.  The train would bear not only Lincoln’s coffin, but that of his beloved son Willie who had died in 1862. His body had been disinterred in Washington so that it could be buried alongside his father’s in Illinois. And if you recognize the name, Lamson, Myron Lamson was the father of Julius and Charles Lamson who started Lamson’s department store in Toledo. Mryon Lamson would later work for his sons at the store.

Boys in Findlay Boys Find Treasure In a Bird’s Nest

In April of 1888, Three or four boys were playing on the Toledo, Columbus and Southern Railroad bridge in Findlay when they discovered a bird’s nest in the roof of the bridge, which they proceeded to investigate, On reaching the nest they were astonished to find, instead of eggs, a silk handkerchief in the nest.  Without delay, they unwrapped it and found thirty-six solid gold rings, the cheapest of which jewelers say, was worth $5. It made the value of the find not less than $200. How this could be, did it really happen or where the rings might have come from is all food for thought. But strange food indeed.

Strange Wild Beast Roaming Wood County

Back in 1902 when oil well derricks studded the landscape of Wood County, there was a boom town called Mermill. One of many such towns that today are little more than a memory and the name of a road.

Oil wells of Wood County circa 1900

In those days, there were plenty of hardships to contend with in the rural community, but one of them was for awhile was a mystery. Some of the locals began to report that there was a strange beast roaming the area at night and terrorizing the citizens and the animals. The local farmers say it was about six feet long and dark in color. Whatever the beast might be it was killing some cattle and a $50 reward was offered for its capture and scalp.  Other reports indicate it not just is a danger to livestock but the beast would hide in the underbrush and then leap out at unsuspecting children with an “unearthly scream”.

Toledo Street Walkers Declare Themselves to Be Orphans

One morning in February of 1901, Toledo Police Judge James Austin had brought before him, ten young women of the street who were accused to accosting men in the downtown area and offering their services.  When

the judge asked for their names, they all claimed to be orphans and did not know their names.  The court room was filled with snickers. One of the girls laughed loudly and between giggles, started laughing so loudly it was contagious and soon every in the room was laughing including the judge. And the amiable Judge Austin must have ben affected by the hilarity as he told the girls that all the charges were being dismissed. He instructed them that if they were going to accost men, they should do it on streets that aren’t so prominent and where it wouldn’t be so public.

The Name Game of Street Characters

Nicknames are not unusual among those characters who are well known on the streets and who find often themselves at odds with the law. Sometimes, the names their mothers awarded them at birth at were largely forgotten as they answer to their earned names. Such was case as a group of “frequent flyers” stood before the police court Toledo one hot August morning in 1915.  They bore such monikers as “Beehive Eddy”, “Red Shirt”, “Scarry Jack”, “Creosote Jim” and “Equator”. I’m sure there is a story behind all of those names and wouldn’t you like to know them?

Remembering Forest Park

The Forgotten Gem of Genoa

This is a seldom seen aerial photo of Forest Park in its heyday. The road in the foreground is Woodville Road and off to the right is Reiman Road. The wooden roller coaster is clearly visible along Reiman Road. _{Photo Courtesy of Genoa Historical Society}

  It wasn’t the biggest amusement park in Toledo area history, but it may have been the best. And least that’s how many people from the area thought of it. It was known as Forest Park, opening on Woodville Road, near Genoa , sometime in the mid-1920’s.  The park, like many of that prohibition -roaring 20’s era was a promise of good times and fun.  One of several such parks around Toledo competing for the attention of those who wanted to a spend a few hours riding the rides, playing the games, dancing to the bands, or maybe lacing up some roller skates to take a few laps around the wooden rink. Forest Park offered a full menu of these features and much more, for several decades, from the 1920’s through the 1940’s. It was “the place to be” every summer, spring and fall, and even in the winter months. The land for the park, at Woodville and Reiman Roads, also known as Hickory Corners, was purchased by businessman Carl Uthoff in the mid-1920’s. Although the exact date of opening day has been lost to time, early Genoa Gazette articles show it was up and running by 1925.

Within a few years, it was it drawing record crowds, and on some days, those crowds were measured in the thousands. Pretty impressive for a park that was miles from the big city population of Toledo.  But one of the reasons it prospered was its convenient location along busy state highway(Woodville Road), and adjacent to that roadway, in the 1920 and 30’s, the Lakeshore Electric Interurban train ran several times a day. The stop at Forest Park made the trip from Toledo a short and easy ride for fun seekers from the city, or in the other direction from Fremont or Woodville. And once they arrived, there was a full spectrum of fun things that was boast worthy.

Below is a panel of photos from Margaret Fintel’s family photo album. They show photos of her grand parents Stephen and Peg Huntzinger and her mother, Peggy, astride the carousel animals from the historic Dentzel carousel that is now proudly operating in Burlington North Carolina.

Suprisely, there is not much written about “Bob’s Coaster” or the “Speedway” wooden coaster(below) that was a premier attraction at the park. Speculating from the aerial photo, it was a large and impressive structure and appeared to take riders as high as 50 feet or more at the top before the cars raced down the other side. The builders and the designers appear to be lost to time and the fog of the past. If anyone knows more about its construction and its eventual demise, this writer and others would be grateful to hear from you.

The Speedway Coaster

The park not only had a roller coaster,(The Speedway as it was called), but a (now historic)Dentzel carousel merry-go-round, A Hersell Carousel, dodg-em-cars, a miniature-train ride and even a Ferris wheel. For those seeking more traditional thrills, bowling alley, a movie screen, and a variety of circus acts and performers, including the dare-devils on the high wires and trapeze.

One of the high wire acts that were regularly featured at Forest Park over the decades

Conspicuous at on the highway side of the park was a popular restaurant and a large indoor large roller rink, while a few feet away there was a dance hall with a beautiful marble floor where couples could dance the night away. Owners Carl Uthoff and partner Bill Stanger always booked some top notch dance bands and singers to croon for the crowd and the young lovers.

The outdoor dance floor(right) that was built in the 1920’s. Later an indoor venue was built.

Forest Park was so popular, and packed with amusements, it was a fierce competitor with other parks in the area at the time, including Willow Beach at Point Place or Locust Point near Oak Harbor, or Walbridge Park in Toledo.

It seemed like every year, Carl Uthoff and buisness partner Bill Stanger added new and better offering for the public to enjoy. The midway offered a penny-pitch stand, a shooting gallery, an archery range and Madam Farray, the fortune teller, would tell you for a quarter what the future held. It’s not certain though if she ever foretold the future of Forest Park. If she had, she might have envisioned its eventual demise by the end of the late 1940’s. Times change, and after World War Two, Americans were seeking their entertainment in other ways. The arrival of television kept lots of folks glued to their black and white screens in the comfort of their living rooms. By the late 1940’s, the popularity of the big bands of the 20’s were falling from grace and no longer in vogue. Even the once popular Interurban trains were out of step with the times and the trains were shut down and the tracks taken out. In short, Toledo area families, like many across the nation, had found new opportunities and options for family getaways.

If that wasn’t enough, on many nights, there were fireworks to keep the crowd’s attention . If people wanted to stay the night, on the other side of Woodville road were 25 cottages that could be rented for $1 per night.

One of many game sof chance along the midway at the park

The $1 a night cottages on the other side of Woodville Road. Some remnants remain.

Forest Park, like many of these pleasure parks of that era were aging. The once popular wooden roller coaster was condemned and other buildings were also in need of repair. The crowds dwindled and Carl Uthoff, who had been struggling to make a profit during the war years started allowing slot machines and gambling on premises. As a result, the park lost its liquor license. Soon theereafter, he sold the park to new owners. The time had come and time was cruel. By the 1950’s the only remnant of the park still in use was the dance hall building which was used as a auction house for a number of years. The once busy roller rink stood in mute silence along the roadway relegated as a storage locker, eventually surrendering to a ball of flame in 1957. As the decade wore on, the remains of this mecca of fun were mostly broken and lifeless. As many baby boomers of the 50’s and 60’s will attest, a drive-by on Woodville Road revealed only a mere wistful glimpse of what once was. Weeds and nature had mostly reclaimed the property and in 1967, that last remaining building, the big dance hall, also fell to fire and memory.

Peaches Browning, a scandalous actress and singer from the 1920’s was a big hit with the crowd at Forest Park.

It should be mentioned that Carl Uthoff and his business partner Bill Stanger also built an entertainment park in Pico California in the 1920’s. The community, now known as Pico Rivera, was in the mid 20’s a rural community wets of Los Angeles thta was growing quickly. Stanger, who lived nearby, must have seen the opportunity, so he and Carl Uthoff of Genoa built what became known as “Danceland” in Pico on Whittier Blvd. As of this wiritng, I am still researching this venue and what ever happened to it. Below are some images and photos of the “Forest Park” of California.

I am have unable, thus far to determine whether anything remains of Danceland in Pico Rivera. Perhaps like with Forest Park, mostly in the mist of memory. There is little if anything remaining on the corner of Woodville and Reiman that would inform the casual observer as to what an exciting and storied place it once was. A place that beckoned thousands of people every year to its gates. But while the buildings may be gone, the memories remain. Mostly second hand memories recountred in family stories and grainy photos. But I find that if you fasten your eyes on the faded photos and listen ever so closely, you can still hear the echoes of laughter and joy at a place called Forest Park.

Beulah and Ellsworth Scott were said to have been married on the dance floor at Forest Park.

The once popular roller rink that was visible along Woodville Road.In later years after Forest park was sold to new owners in the 1950’s, the rink was used mostly for storage and then in the late 1950’s fell to flames. (Below) a view of the miniature train and some of its young riders, and young at heart.

The Lake Shore Electric Interurban tracks (pictured below) ran along Woodville Road, and was a convenient way for thousand to get to Forest Park. Below are the tracks just north of Reiman Road.

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  Lake Shore Electric Tracks Along Woodville Road

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  The LSE on Woodville Road

Toledo’s Marina District May Be Toledo’s Greatest Opportunity

 

The Riverfront area has become a a makeshift park as hundreds of people use it every week as such.

 

The next time you’re on the East Side of Toledo, take a turn off Main Street down Riverside Drive. It’s the street that runs the length of the so-called Marina District along the Maumee River. If you’re there in the daytime, what you’ll likely find are at least a dozen cars with people inside, eating lunch, talking on the cellphone, or contemplating life and enjoying the day. Often people get out of their cars to take a stroll down to the river to visually inhale the great views of the skyline and the waterfront. This happens everyday and I have been taking note of this activity because as talk grows louder about a possible repossession of this taxpayer-improved riverfront site, owned, but ignored by its Chinese investors, we will likely need to get serious very soon about what the city wants to do with this property. And surely opinions and ideas will run the gamut. So here’s mine. Let it be what it is now and what it wants to be. A park. A place where people can come for recreational activity, a leisurely walk, a bike ride, or a picnic lunch. A place to gather. A place to be alone. It’s also a stone’s throw from the new Great Lakes Maritime Museum which keeps drawing an impressive number of new visitors. So, as we keep asking ourselves “what should we do with the large section of reclaimed riverfront?”, the answer may be right in front of us. With a minimal investment, this could become a premiere park venue for Toledo. Perhaps a far better investment long term than just pouring more money and concrete into a “mixed development” project of retail, and housing that may or may not be successful. The last thing Toledo needs is another “failure”. We need positive momentum. A new riverfront city park would give us that. And would be a much greater investment in the city’s future. Our parks, and parks in general, have been, with few exceptions, success stories. Every city has proven this reality over the years, and Toledo is no exception.

The major city parks in Toledo are are still just as popular as they were when they were developed 100 years ago. But even back then, the park promoters and visionaries had to convince the naysayers that this was money well spent and was a necessity – not a luxury. Public places are time tested and durable offering recreational and cultural opportunities for generations of Toledo residents. Cases in point; the Toledo Zoo, the Toledo Museum of Art, and our City of Toledo and Metro Parks systems. They have been around for a century and are still going strong. In 1895, one of the top parks in the city was Walbridge Park along the riverfront, drawing hundreds of thousands of visitors a year. It still does. And just across the street from Walbridge, the continuing popularity of the century old Toledo Zoo should provide all the evidence needed to underscore the public’s desire for family venues of amusement and entertainment. In West Toledo, in 1896, when Bancroft Street was still a dirt road, Ottawa Park was in its undeveloped infancy. It was a 280 acre acquisition that was highly controversial at the time when critics claimed that spending public money on such a large rural tract of land, far beyond the heart of the city was a foolhardy waste of money and that no one would ever use the land for recreation. Within a few years, though, after parks and public golf crusader, Sylvanus P. Jermain was able to get a golf course built in the park, followed by the addition of ball fields and a hockey rink, and a shelter house, the park became the most popular in the city, drawing close to a million visitors a years. The voices of the naysayers were silenced and the rest, as they say, is history.

Early image of Ottawa park

So let’s make more history. Think about giving Toledoans another park? And not just “another” park, but a “special” park. One that could become the centerpiece of a new commitment to recognize and develop our love for the greatest natural resource in the city: The Maumee River. It could be that one signature venue that defines our city, helping to create a quality of life that makes the city more attractive in the eyes of prospective new companies looking for a new home, or people looking for a great place to live. Or those Toledoans who are looking for reasons to stay here. Let’s face it. Toledo has the best riverfront on the Great Lakes. We need to embrace that. We need say it loudly everyday. And we need to use our riverfront to our best advantage and not give in to those who would give it away to yet another private developer to soil this public treasure with yet another a “flavor-of-the-month” mall concept. Let’s face it, malls and stores, come and a great city should be more than a collection of retail venues. Parks are forever and the precious land along the riverfront and how it is used should belong to the people of the city.

Other cities around the country have not been bashful about using their best assets to create a positive and exciting images in the minds of  visitors and residents. In many communities, these special areas have featured trolleys, Ferris wheels, fountains, walkways,  carousels,  skateboard parks, winter skating rinks, bike paths, museums, gardens, amphitheaters and public art. Cincinnati has several such river and waterfront venues, as does Denver, and Louisville and Chicago. So why not Toledo?

Expensive? Yes? But what that investment generates in the long run is a pride and a sense of place that can’t be replicated at any price. Quality of life attributes that are priceless.

So let’s start with the seeds already planted at the north end of the Marina District property. The new and popular maritime museum, a museum ship and a marina. From those seeds it’s not an impossible stretch to think Toledo could grow and nurture a park-like setting that could easily include other museums, activities and facilities that are centered on celebrating the city’s heritage. Whatever it is, it should be “grand”. We should have no quarter for “little” plans. We need to do something to stir our souls. Toledo needs to make a statement. A bold one. To the rest of the world and to ourselves. This is our chance. This is our challenge. This waiting and vacant piece of our riverfront is our opportunity.