Aaron Adams’s Lame-ass Blog

As long as a century and a half ago, miles of hedge fences crossed the Bellbrook / Sugarcreek Township area. This article about hedge fences, and the subsequent picture, courtesy of the Bellbrook Historical society, comes from the April 9, 1966 issue of the Xenia Gazette.

The most fun about a hedge fence was collecting the hedge apples to be used as missiles in a game of war. The more aggravating things about a hedge fence were the time and hard work required to trim and and that it shaded the ground and robbed crops of moisture for a rod or more on either side. As a result, hedge fence declined in popularity with the introduction of woven wire fencing at the turn of the century, and since then farmers have been using horses, tractors, and bulldozers in attempts to dislodge it. Finally, only a fraction of the original mileage once in use exists.

But at one time the importing, sale, planting, and trimming of the osage orange variety of hedge was a profitable operation of J.H. Racer & Co. at Bellbrook. Harold Berryhill, who, with his wife, is heading up village plans for a sesquicentennial celebration there June 16-19, uncovered the evidence of this early enterprise.

The tree is native to Texas, can reach a height of 50 feet and a diameter of two feet, and is a tough, durable wood that serves for years when employed as fence posts. When used as a fence, the trees were planted in a line about a foot or two apart and, after a few years, cut off to four feet and kept trimmed.

A healthy growth resulted in a thick, thorny foliage that made an acceptable fencing for cattle, sheep and horses, but not so effective for swine. Berryhill found that J. C. McMillan was advertising plantings in the Xenia Torchlight as early as 1852, and that William T. Berryhill, of south of Bellbrook, was running ads for it in 1854.

His terms were 25 cents per rod for setting out the trees and 75 cents per rod when the fence was perfected. The land owner was required to clear the land and plow and harrow the rows and to board the workmen while they were on the job.

In some cases, the hedge was planted form seeds obtained from the hedge balls or apples, a sphere about four inches in diameter and light green in color that exudes a milky, gummy substance when bruised. John H. Racer, who patented the Racer Hedge Fence, was the son of a Major Racer who moved to Bellbrook about 1878 and occupied a house still existing at the end of the Little Miami River bridge on the Lower Bellbrook Pike.

The papers of the 1882 period reported that Racer and this brothers were doing a lively business in planting and trimming hedge and built a “neat little office” which exists as part of a house west of the river bridge, now covered with imitation brick siding.

Racer’s ads quoted the cost as 60 cents a rod, offered two trimmings a year for $3.50 for 100 yards. His ads appeared occasionally in the Bellbrook Moon and in 1891, he bought the paper, expanded the size of his ads, and made offers to outside agents.

Hm, that old J. H. Racer building looks familiar. Where have I see it before?

It’s now the Crowl Funeral Museum in the center of town, pictured here during this year’s Sugar Maple Festival with the Sleepy Tom exhibit in front. After it was the Racer HQ, it served as the office for the local undertaker, who embalmed bodies in the building and poured the blood into the ground out back to dispose of it. Many of his original implements and fluids, as well as a child’s coffin, are currently on display each Saturday.

So why do I bring up hedge fences? There is one known existing example of a hedge fence in this area, and it happens to be located in a park two blocks behind my house. It’s part of Sugarcreek Metropark and they call it the Osage Orange Tunnel. I took this picture of the tunnel two summers ago, and the picture doesn’t do it justice.

But wait, there’s more! I said one known existing example. There is, in fact, another hedge fence that’s close by and I don’t know if anyone else is aware of it.

My fiend Tim Miller was checking out a wooded area behind a hospital that’s under construction just down the road when he found it.

Yep, those are the remains of a hedge fence. It’s hard to tell in the pictures, but the trees are close together and arranged in a straight line. Tim and I walked back into the woods this weekend to check it out. It’s very overgrown and years of forest clutter make it look awful, but it’s there. I really really hope whoever owns that land is aware of the fence and its historical value, and I also hope there are no plans to demolish it. In any case, Tim tells me he’s already in active contact with someone who may have the ability to help preserve it, so we’ll see.

In addition to hedge fences, another type of historical vegetation around here is large oak trees. At one time these large trees were numerous in this part of Ohio, but most of them fell to the settler’s axe. Now they are rare, and the aforementioned Sugarcreek Metropark protects three of them in a cluster, known as the Three Sisters.

It’s very difficult to get good pictures of three large trees, but here’s the best I have on file at the moment, from the park.

I’ll give you one guess what’s directly at the end of the hedge fence.

Yep, another giant oak, probably every bit as big as the ones in the park. According to information provided by the park, the trees there are more than 550 years old. If size is any indication, this tree was probably just beginning its life as Columbus crossed the Atlantic. That’s hard to imagine!

If a hedge fence and some very large, old trees are attraction enough to section off land for a regional park, I think the hedge fence and large tree Tim and I saw this weekend are worthy of some kind of mini-park status. I’d hate to see them torn down to make way for yet more insipid shopping we don’t need around here. If Tim’s contact doesn’t pan out, perhaps I’ll contact the parks district to see if they’re interested in preserving these historic trees.

A couple of posts ago, I promised to write something about the iPhone and new Airport with 802.11n. And I will. When I feel like it. Recently I haven’t. But I will.

What I do feel like writing about is local history. Damn, how I love local history. I realize it doesn’t appeal to most readers of this blog, but I know someone out there shares my interest. And what I want to write about today is something I recently learned about some of the roads around Bellbrook, Ohio. Stick with the whole narrative, it’s interesting.

About a century ago, Dayton had a street car system named the Interurban, which consisted of tracks and traction cars that went to destinations around Dayton and Xenia. Separately there was… and this is the big surprise, at least to me… another street car system that went from Dayton, to Bellbrook, to Spring Valley! If you’re familiar with the area, you know that’s pretty amazing considering that a century ago, Bellbrook was a remote farm town, and even today, Spring Valley is still remote, although not much of a farm town these days. The idea of a street car system meandering through the country, down the center of dirt roads, past small collections of homes and barns and farm houses, is a pleasing romantic vision, if not reality.

I’m not sure what the name of the Dayton-Bellbrook-Spring Valley (DBSV) street car line was, but it joined with the Interurban where modern-day Wayne Avenue and Wilmington Pike meet, which is now the location of 10 Wilmington Place retirement community, which was, at the time of the Interurban, an insane asylum. From that point, the DBSV line followed Wilmington Pike south to what we now know as State Route 725, or Alex-Bell Road. At the time of the street car, instead of the abbreviated Alex-Bell that we’re familiar with, the road was more properly named Alexandersville-Bellbrook Road, because it went from (duh) Alexandersville to Bellbrook. Indeed, today the road goes from Bellbrook to West Carrollton, which acquired Alexandersville when it was incorporated a few decades ago.

From the 725 (Alex-Bell) and Wilmington intersection, the street car went east through downtown Bellbrook and continued down a section of 725 that is still rural today to the tiny town of Spring Valley, which was the end of the line. My understanding is that in places along 725 east of Bellbrook, you can still see the track bed for the street car. I haven’t been out to confirm that, but it seems likely.

An electric street car system like the DBSV requires, um, electricity. The power plant for this particular line was located at the northeast corner of Patterson Road and Grange Hall Road in modern Beavercreek. For those computer nerds in the Dayton area, you’d know that as a corner roughly across the street form 5 O’Clock computers, and the non-nerds will recognize it as the vacant corner across from the Jet Freeze. I think that site has been declared as some kind of hazardous area, no doubt related to the old power plant.

From there, the feed wire for the power ran south down Grange Hall Road, roughly down Darst Road and Little Sugarcreek Road, through some open areas, until it intersected a road named the Beer Road. Unbeknownst to many of Bellbrook’s modern residents, there used to be (and maybe there still is) a natural spring in the area of the pioneer cemetery and the Jehova’s Witness building along Upper Bellbrook Road. That natural spring gave someone the opportunity to brew beer, which they consequently sold in both Dayton and Xenia because the Beer Road went between Xenia and Wilmington Pike. After the feed wire for the street car power intersected the Beer Road, it went west to Wilmington, where it provided electricity for the street cars. Subsequently, the Beer Road was renamed… wait for it… Feedwire Road! That’s pretty cool. I wonder if the Beer Road name was given up during prohibition. The time frame seems right, but I don’t have any evidence of that, just a supposition.

Now, here’s another cool part: In a book published by the Bellbrook Historical Society, they included a table of times and fares for the street car service. Get a load of this! It’s a table of fares to different destinations from downtown Bellbrook.

White’s Corner is where yours truly currently lives, the intersection of Wilmington and 725. In fact, there’s a little road there named White’s Corner (which used to be part of Wilmington Pike) and you can clearly see “White’s Corner ATM” from the road. Also, there has been a fruit and vegetable stand there in the recent past with the White’s Corner name. Perhaps I’ll write more about White’s Corner at a later date.

I’m not completely sure about the location of County Line. My best educated guess is that County Line is the current day location of Brown Road and Rollandia golf course, where Wilmington Pike takes a jog northwestward, leaving Greene County and entering Montgomery County.

Roslyn… now there’s a name that has been lost to time. Roslyn was a collection of homes at the intersection of Wilmington Pike and Stroop Road, where today you’ll find some fast food restaurants, a Meijer, and the public library. If you look closely at the street names in the older neighborhood there, you’ll see a Roslyn Avenue.

Belmont is still Belmont, where the insane asylum… I mean, retirement home… is located and where the DBSV line met the Interurban.

Spring Valley is, of course, the tiny sleepy town we still know, south of Xenia.

How long did it take to get from one place to another? How practical was the street car as a mode of everyday transportation? The schedule for street car departures from Bellbrook gives us an excellent idea:

In effect Sunday, April 17, 1904

Cars leave Bellbrook for Dayton at 5:45, 8:15, 10:45 a.m. and 1:15, 3:45, 6:15, 8:30 and 11:00 p.m.

Cars leave Bellbrook for Spring Valley at 7:40 and 10:10 a.m. and 12:40, 3:10, 5:40, 8:05, 10:25, and 11:55 p.m.

Saturdays, Sundays and holidays extra cars will leave Bellbrook for Dayton at 9:30 a.m., 12:00, 2:30, 5:00 and 7:30 p.m.

For Spring Valley at 8:55 and 11:25 a.m., 1:55, 4:25 and 6:55 p.m.

Subject to change without notice.

Judging the departure times and the distances to both Spring Valley and Dayton, it seems logical the the trip to Spring Valley took around 20 minutes, and the trip to Dayton close to 45. That’s pretty good for a century ago.