Saving Lives and Forests

At the 1884 Berlin Conference, European powers divided Africa into colonies. In the industrial areas of America, protests and strikes led to the adoption of an eight-hour work day. Several articles mentioned the irony of the labor fight comparing it to the plight of women whose workday never seemed to end. There were 100 cottages in Spring Lake, but a mere handful in Sea Girt.

19-year-old John Hagan was unemployed at home in Philadelphia. In his spare time, he built a sled large enough for ten boys. In February on the Schuylkill River, just below the Collowhill Bridge, at the Fairmont Dam, hundreds of people were skating and sliding on the frozen river. Dozens had gathered at the rail of the footbridge to watch the festivities on the ice below.

The Fairmont Waterworks where the accident occurred

Hagan was pulling boys and then releasing the sled using a metal hook, and many were jumping onto the sliding sled, making a chain of boys. As it was getting dark, and John was tiring, he wanted to go home with his sled, but the boys convinced him to make one more run.

He pushed the sled across the river. This time and it flew across attracting more boys to hang onto the boys in the back. As the sled crossed and slowed, the ice in this patch of the river cracked and eleven riders and hangers-on disappeared into the river. Six or seven other boys dropped off before hitting the water.

Panic ensued. A crowd on the ice moved to the edge where the sled had gone under. Shouts from the bridge rail urged the bystanders back. Everyone seemed to scream for a boat or a rope. Still, no one took action. The boys came up for air and then started to go under with their heavy boots and wool clothes.

Hagan ran up, first pushed back the crowd, and then cooly got on his belly. One boy after another grabbed his arm and he yanked them onto the solid ice behind him, where others bundled them up and helped them off the river. Only four were close enough. Hagan jumped into the water with his coat on and swam. He went under and pulled three more up boys. Another grabbed his neck. Hagan saved 9 of the 11 that went into the water. One was able to climb to safety and the last one drowned. The parents of the surviving boys put together a fund and sent Hagan to the Glenwood Military Academy in Matawan New Jersey.

John thrived at the private prep school. As a summer job, he was hired as the Bathing Master at Sea Girt, as his lifesaving skills were well known, and the Beach House could brag that they had a real hero guarding the ropes. The Bathing Master checked the rope lines, guarded the beach, and communicated with the Life Saving Stations, An early version of the Coast Guard, the stations looked for ships in trouble, close to shore. Members also assisted swimmers who got into trouble. The area around the Wreck Pond inlet caused most of the concern, as the shifting sands and flowing runoff created rip currents. Since 1849, there was a federal life-saving station at Wreck Pond. It was rebuilt as the Spring Lake Station in 1883 and was manned by H.L. Howland.

The Wreck Pond Spring Lake Station, newly built in 1883 USLSS Station #8, Fourth District (US Coast Guard Files)

In 1885, John Hagan, the modest hero, returned to Philadelphia to accept a Medal of Honor from Congress for his bravery during the accident.

While at Matawan, he schooled with Fredrick F. Schock who would later be President of the First National Bank of Spring Lake, and invested in the Essex and Sussex Hotel. Schock made sure his friend always had a job in the area. Hagan settled in Sea Girt and worked as a manager at the Monmouth Hotel and the Beach manager at the Spring Lake Bath and Tennis. Speaking of tennis….

Ropes gave ocean swimmers a hand hold. 1886 photo of Asbury Park (MCM Collection)

Quaker Elliston Perot Morris from Germantown, PA, owned the original home on the beachfront, where 619 Ocean Avenue is today. Hibberd Yarnell built the ornate three-story Victorian house named Avocado, and one further south for himself, Cedar Mer. In 1884 Elliston Morris brought a suit against the Land Improvement Company. When the company mapped the property, they preserved the infield of Stockton’s racetrack as a public park. The Crescent was the centerpiece of the radial map from which all streets converged. The park was featured in the brochures and reflected in the deeds.

With lot sales slow, and the Land Improvement Company struggling to meet its mortgage, James Hunter, John Lucas, and Henry Yard had Engineer Fredrich Asnpach redraw the plot plan in a traditional grid.

The Morris family made tennis courts out of the cleared land in Crescent Park

Without notice, work crews began to cut down the forest near today’s Philadelphia Blvd, seemingly continuing First Avenue through the park. Hearing this, and fearing the destruction of the woods. Morris filed for an injunction and work was halted.

The land company claimed they were simply straightening the sightlines for people driving through the park. They were improving the park by clearing small brush. However, the testimony of large trees cut and the Anspach map left no doubt to the judge that the company had plans to destroy the park. The final judgment was issued in 1884. The land company lost and had to pay Morris’ costs.

The 1884 map was damning evidence that the park was to be demolished.

The judge ruled:

“The bill is filed to restrain the defendant, the complainant’s grantor, from opening any streets or avenues through what is known as Crescent Park (a plot of about twenty acres, dedicated by the defendant to public use for a park) at Sea Girt, or using the park or any part thereof as a public highway; and from cutting and removing any timber, trees or shrubs growing or being in or upon that park, and from in any way destroying, defacing, marring or impairing the park or any part of it, and from using it or any part of it for any purpose inconsistent with its use as a park or pleasure-ground”

The north end of the park was now an open field. Elliston Morris’ son Marriott Canby Morris invited his Haverford College friends and he began a family tradition of using the cleared land for tennis. Morris’ grandchildren maintained the tradition and the town took over maintenance of the courts, putting a hard surface down in 1931. It remains the third oldest tennis facility in New Jersey.