Chapter 9: "Fire Fork"
Had The Elks' general manager, John Downey reclined in his easy chair at his Dawson Avenue home after Sunday dinner on November 2, 1930, and reflected on the club's state of affairs, his thoughts probably would have been dominated by a sense of relief that The Elks' had weathered and survived the 1930 season. There was a depression in full-swing, and its accompanying financial turmoil had definitely caused an adverse impact on the membership numbers and bottom lines of all golf and country clubs. But Downey could point to a number of successes in 1930. The club had successfully hosted the Ohio Open, recently concluded the first week of October, and an Elks' alum, sweet-swinging Denny Shute, had taken first prize. The club's golf team had also won the season-long district-wide competition. Downey also would have been pleased with professional Francis Marzolf, hired by Downey in 1930 to replace Denny's father Herman. Francis was turning out to be the consummate club pro: personable and well respected by the members, a fine teacher (Mrs. Thornton Emmons credited Marzolf with making her a champion), and no slouch on the course. Francis had qualified for the 1928 United States Open and would do so again in 1933. The consensus among the members was that Arlington Country Club's loss (Marzolf's previous post) was The Elks' gain.
Francis Marzolf
Moreover, there was cause for optimism for the coming year- 1931. For the first time, The Elks' Country Club had been selected as the site of the Ohio Amateur. This would afford the club an opportunity to showcase its course, which was already being referred to as the "Maker of Champions" by virtue of the fact that the last four Ohio Amateur titles had been captured by four different Elks' golfers. Some of the best players in town were gravitating to the high-level of competition provided by the likes of Johnny Florio, Glen Bishop, Joe Outhwaite, and Mel Carpenter. Higher handicappers in Columbus , having observed the course's positive affect on these champions' games, had to be ruminating on whether their games might also benefit from regular games at The Elks'. Downey would have also been highly aware that the movement to repeal prohibition was gathering steam. That obviously was not going to happen overnight, but the prospect of acquiring a liquor license, and its accompanying boon to the fortunes of the club had to be comforting.
It is unnecessary to speculate what Ernest Timberlake was up to during the evening of November 2nd. His activities were well documented by each of Columbus's daily newspapers the following day. As the caretaker of the clubhouse, Timberlake was furnished living quarters on the second floor. Around 8 PM, Ernest descended into the basement for the purpose of tending the coal furnace and banking the fire for the night. He asserted that he "banked the fire the same as I always do." This task accomplished, Timberlake climbed upstairs to bed. He later reported the following: "I hadn't got sound to sleep when I was awakened about 9 P.M.. The smoke was thick in my room and I was coughing when I awakened. I think the smoke awakened me." Continuing his account, Ernest reported he "jumped up and called Lawrence Huber, the greenskeeper, who makes his home in another building nearby," via the club's internal buzzer system.
Thereafter, Timberlake managed to speedily don trousers and shoes, and throw a raincoat over his under shirt. He then left his room, and attempted to descend the staircase. The smoke was intense, and Ernest could not see where he was going. He backtracked and decided to exit the building out his bedroom window by which he was able to access the roof of the clubhouse's front porch. From there, Ernest leaped to safety. The Columbus Citizen's story informed that Mr. Timberlake "barely escaped with his life."
Meanwhile, Huber, having heard Timberlake's buzz, immediately telephoned the fire department at 9:12 P.M. Then he sprinted from his home to the clubhouse, and with Timberlake assisting, "emptied a 30-gallon fire extinguisher on the blaze, which [according to Lawrence] was in the basement, near the furnace." Huber ruefully remarked later, "we almost had it out, and another tank would have done the job. We emptied the tank and waited for the firemen to arrive. They made good time, and first used chemical apparatus they 'carried.' "
Lawrence Huber's home at The Elks'
from which he ran to try to save the clubhouse
But the greatest need was water to extinguish the fire! In that respect, first responder Number 13 Engine Company and the four pump and truck companies that followed, were confronted with a virtually hopeless scenario. The nearest hydrant, placed at the corner of Morse Road and Indianola Avenue, was located nearly one-half mile from the blaze now starting to rage. Number 13 Engine Company had insufficient hose on-hand to stretch the too-long distance, and was forced to await the appearance of the other companies. Once all responders arrived with additional equipment, the firefighters were able to lay almost a mile of hose, thus enabling them to finally "throw two streams of water on the blazing building." As if the firemen did not have enough problems, a driving southeast wind was blowing briskly, exponentially fanning the flames. Extinguishment efforts were also complicated by a persistent drizzle that was morphing into sleet.
from which he ran to try to save the clubhouse
But the greatest need was water to extinguish the fire! In that respect, first responder Number 13 Engine Company and the four pump and truck companies that followed, were confronted with a virtually hopeless scenario. The nearest hydrant, placed at the corner of Morse Road and Indianola Avenue, was located nearly one-half mile from the blaze now starting to rage. Number 13 Engine Company had insufficient hose on-hand to stretch the too-long distance, and was forced to await the appearance of the other companies. Once all responders arrived with additional equipment, the firefighters were able to lay almost a mile of hose, thus enabling them to finally "throw two streams of water on the blazing building." As if the firemen did not have enough problems, a driving southeast wind was blowing briskly, exponentially fanning the flames. Extinguishment efforts were also complicated by a persistent drizzle that was morphing into sleet.
In short order, the blaze was out of control, and the clubhouse became totally engulfed in flame. Reluctantly, the firemen abandoned hope of saving the clubhouse, and "turned their efforts to watching surrounding trees and leaves to see they did not catch fire and spread to other buildings on the grounds." Fortunately, the ongoing drizzle kept the embers from so spreading.
This was no ordinary building fire. The blaze was so spectacular that "hundreds of motorists parked their cars in the vicinity of the club to watch it," despite the inclement weather. The Citizen noted that "ribbon-like flames shot skyward for 30 feet giving the appearance of lightning, differing however, as they retained visibility for several minutes. Another strange scene occurred when the blaze spread from the inside to the outside of the structure, igniting the siding [made of cedar] and boring the wood's grain giving the appearance of a spider's web. "
The spectators were further amazed by a "long, thin, whirlpool of flame shot skyward from the east end of the building." One of the firemen explained to an Ohio State Journal reporter that this phenomenon was a "fire fork" caused when "hot air sent into a whirlpool by air currents," is combined with combustible gases.
John Downey, having been snapped out of his supposed reverie at home by the unwelcome news, drove to the scene and watched the conflagration helplessly with Elks' trustee George Pierce. The Elks' wonderful clubhouse was reduced to total rubble leaving only smoldering ruins and a fire-scarred chimney. A pool table, some tables and chairs, an icebox, and a few other miscellaneous items were all that was salvaged. Gone was all the golf equipment storied in the ladies' locker room. Dr. John Walters, a guest of the club from New York, but off the premises at the time the fire broke out, lost his medical equipment.
Reporters from the three Columbus newspapers, apprised that Downey was on the scene, pressed him for details on the resulting financial loss, the club's insurance coverage, and what losing its clubhouse meant to the future of The Elks' Country Club. He was able in large part to oblige them, because substantial information was reported in those papers the following day. He estimated the building loss at $100,000 on the clubhouse, and $25,000 on its burned contents. The club carried insurance coverage in the amount of $75,000 on the building, and $20,000 for its contents. Downey did his best to allay concerns that the fire might doom the course and club. He expected that the Elks' trustees would take steps toward construction of a new clubhouse. An emergency trustees' meeting was scheduled for Tuesday to discuss the matter. Accordingly, the front-page headline in the November 3rd edition of The Columbus Citizen assured readers, "Elks Plan to Rebuild House Swept by Fire."
But in reality, the trustees faced a difficult dilemma. Given that the clubhouse had been underinsured by at least $25,000, the construction of a new facility of the same scale as the one just lost, meant that the B.P.O.E. would either have to cough up the difference from its own coffers, or impose a special assessment on the members. Neither alternative was attractive. Wouldn't an assessment be counterproductive because it would inevitably cause golfers to bolt to Brookside or York Temple- the hot new courses in town? Building a scaled-down clubhouse did not seem like the right answer either. Which of the amenities of the burned clubhouse could the club do without in a new building- the large lounging room, women's lockers, the dance hall, the grill room, the full commercial kitchen, or the sleeping rooms? Elimination of any of these facilities could markedly diminish The Elks' upper-tier "country club" brand.
Another big unknown was the question of how many members would resign during the winter simply because they did not want to wait around for construction of a new clubhouse. In that regard, the fire could not have come at a worse time. Typically, members of northern country club members who are on the fence about keeping their memberships going forward, choose to stay or leave in the month of November. The reasoning for doing so then is along the lines of, "Why postpone my decision? With the golf season over, I would rather not pay dues over the winter when I do not intend to be using the club much anyway? I may as well leave now!" The destruction of the clubhouse was undoubtedly going to create a push toward resignation for some vacillating Elks' members.
With all this uncertainty whirling about and such short notice, it is understandable that the trustees were not ready to announce anything definitive after their meeting to discuss the club's predicament on November 4th. But B.P.O.E.'s silence only served to ramp up the rumormongering. The most common whispering heard was that B.P.O.E. might dispose of the golf course! December and January passed, and still no definitive word had been conveyed to the anxious membership. By February, the number of dues payers alarmingly declined to 180 men and 50 women. Alarmed that the uncertainty of the situation might jeopardize The Elks' scheduled summer hosting of the Ohio Amateur, the Ohio Golf Association solicited proposals to host the tournament from other clubs.
Finally, the B.P.O.E. scheduled a meeting date of Wednesday, February 11, 1931, for its membership to consider a proposal from an unnamed prospective purchaser of its golf course. The entirety of the offer was not made public in advance of the meeting, but some details of the contemplated new operation were made known: (1) assuming the sale was agreed upon, the course would be "operated strictly for its golf features and not as a country club"; and (2) the resulting club would be limited to private memberships.
The "founding father" most responsible for the golf course's creation was now about to become the "man of the hour" charged with the task of saving it!
John W. Kaufman
Acknowledgements: Newspaper accounts of the Ohio State Journal, Columbus Citizen, and Columbus Dispatch. "Columbus Memory: Scripps- Howard Newspaper/Grandview Heights Public Library photo.org collection http://wwwphotohio.org
contained in the Archives of the Columbus Metropolitan Library.
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