MUSEUM MUSINGS COLUMN FOR THE SUNDAY UNION
JANUARY 11, 1998

By Gaylynn Childs
GCHS Museum Director

It was nearing 5:30 p.m. on a cold, snowy Friday in January of 1898, when one or two of the merchants and customers in the shops along Junction City's West 7th Street heard three dongs from the city's fire bell located in the duel opera house and city hail at the end of block, then nothing more. Most who heard this alarm assumed it was th prank of some local lads who had been caught in the midst of their mischief and run off. However, within a very few minutes those who ventured out into the darkening street were met with a sight they would never forge as orange tongues of flame licked from the upper windows of the Opera House. As the word spread up and down the street that the Opera House was on fire "everybody in town-as with one bound-was at the scene to see the first flame burst from the roof."

Thus, began one of the most memorable disasters in the history of our town, and in as much as January 14th is the one hundredth anniversary of that sad event, we thought it appropriate to review the building's history and the circumstances surrounding the fire today, even though these subjects have been addressed in this column before. Most of the material we shall present has come from write-ups in the local newspapers of the period-primarily the Junction City UNION and REPUBLICAN. At that time the UNION was a daily publication, while the REPUBLICAN was printed and distributed weekly.

The story of this beloved and eccentric community landmark began back in 1881 when a group of local citizens took a Christmas holiday jaunt to near-by Abilene to see a performance in that town's newly completed opera house. According to a newspaper account of the trip: "Our people fell in love with Abilene's beautiful opera house and long for the day when Junction City can boast of one as good." Among these traveling "theater buffs" were merchants S.W. Pierce, A.H. Bartell, J.C. Scott, and M.K. Bitterman, who took it upon themselves to head a private effort to raise funds for such a facility and within weeks they had subscriptions for $700 toward the project. With this money they purchased the lot at the corner of Jefferson and West 7th Street and donated it to the city as a site for a new city hall, which would also house a theater of the type they had seen in Abilene.

According to one account written at the time of the fire, "These gentlemen believed in the future of 7th Street, wanted to see it built up and believed the location of the city hail on that corner would assist materially in this respect. Recent developments have proven that they were correct, for a number of substantial business houses have since been erected on this street between Washington and Jefferson."

Following the donation of the lot, the city voted to issue $12, 000 worth of bonds for the purpose of building the new City Hall. However, a myriad of problems plagued the construction, including legal entanglements when the original contractor-a Mr. Terhune-died suddenly as the project was getting started. Later, when it was nearly done, a large portion of the tall clock tower collapsed and fell to the ground. The building was finally completed however, and the opening date was set for January of 1882.

This first building was a red brick structure with a tall tower housing a four-faced clock, which was audible, and visible all over town. On the west side (facing Jefferson Street) was the theater entrance where a porte-cochere served the carriages bringing theatergoers to the opera house. The front of the building housed the fire department, the police department, the jail, and the city council room on the second floor.

The theater interior was large with a seating capacity of 1, 000. The stage was located at the south end and the large prosceium curtain was flown up into the fly gallery instead of being rolled, as was the custom of the day. The auditorium chairs were often moved back to facilitate other functions such as balls, cotillions, and even banquets according to the newspaper accounts of these events.

In 1895, Mrs. F.H. Stout wrote a history of the opera house for the "Women's Edition" of the REPUBLICAN newspaper printed in October of that year. She notes that after the inaugural performance of the Spanish drama, "Miralda," presented by the Junction City Dramatic Club, the local thespians presented their profits of $170 to help pay for the stock scenery and furnishings for the new facility. The following week the Clayton Opera Company had "the distinction of being the first professional troupe to perform on the stage." In January of 1883, Mrs. Stout notes that Waite's Union Square Theater Company performed under the first gas illumination in this city and in 1890, electric lights were put into the building along with new floors, raised seating, and refurbished and elegantly decorated walls and ceilings.

A.L. Barnes was the first manager of the Opera House, which over the years hosted an impressive roster of theater and music greats as well as every, type of performance from the sublime to the ridiculous. Among the most popular and well-remembered shows to play the opera house however, were those produced locally. The late Junction City octogenarian, Keith Hemenway, recalled one such production in which he and the late John D. Montgomery, as young boys, dressed in baseball uniforms and black-face and sang "Take Me Out to the Bailgame," for an Elks Club minstrel show at the Opera House in the early years of the century.

In 1890, according to Mrs. Stout, the Opera House portion of the building was leased and placed under the management of A.P. Trott, early photographer and man-of-all-trades. He retired in May of 1894, and T.W. Dorn the City Clerk assumed the management of the facility and it was he who was in charge at the time of the fire.

As Junction Citians converged on the scene on that January night, large wet snowflakes began to fall. It was hoped that this would aid the efforts of the fire department who were frantically fighting to save their own home as well as the city's "cultural heart." But the fire had spread so rapidly through the scenery and along the dry roof that the entire building seemed to be ablaze when "the first stream was thrown." Those three taps on the fire bell were all that could be sounded before the rope had burned through.

At first firemen and volunteers went directly to the "scene of the action" within the building. But when it was discovered that the entire roof was burning, it was feared that the heavy slate roof would go down and take with it the frail side walls. Thus, a retreat was ordered and streams were played at the building from a safe distance. According to the report in the UNION printed the following day, "It would have taken a much larger fire department, more ladders, and much more hose than could be commanded here to have saved the building."

The roof fell in over the stage first and then large sections came crashing down in rapid succession. Theresa Rizer Durand, who was a young girl at the time, recalled standing across the street on the west side of the building during the fire. She said it was snowing and at exactly 6 p.m. just as the tower clock was striking the hour, the tower crumpled and the clock fell to the ground.

The fire was burning so rapidly that it soon' became apparent it could quickly spread to the Muenzenmayer Hardware building to the east and to the Thomas Dixon barns and residence located to the south at 38 West 6th Street Efforts were therefore turned to trying to protect these properties before the whole downtown was ablaze. Fortunately, these measures were successful.

By the time it was all over, it was reported that the walls had stood much better than expected, but "the damage was so bad that the wreck may be called complete." It was speculated that the insurance companies would doubtless turn over the money and make no attempt at rebuilding the ruins.'

By the time the sun rose the next morning there was already a move on to rebuild the opera house. Talk around town noted the fact that on the same night as the fire, the city council had set aside a $2,000 payment on the bond and that $10, 000 would be forth-coming from the insurance. "Surely, this town could put up a replacement building for that price, if not, the additional money will be found."

The REPUBLICAN of January 21st, in reporting on the fire, pretty much summed up the general feeling around town in regard to the rebuilding question: "There is no doubt but that the cost of the original building was excessive, but when we contemplate the great benefits and pleasures that have come to the citizens of our community in the possession of this building we doubt if a public spirited man can be found who regrets the construction of the edifice. Junction City needs such a building. There is not now a hall in the city that will seat 300 people. The city is fast growing into popularity as a convention city, and for this and a number of other good and substantial reasons no time should be lost in rebuilding... The REPUBLICAN is in favor of rebuilding and supports the use of our native stone for the walls instead of imported brick. Keep all money possible at home and let our own laborers and mechanics reap the benefit. The members of the council with whom we have talked favor a policy of this kind, and they exhibit patriotism and good judgement in holding such views."

In as much as the future of the Opera House and other of our historic downtown buildings is once again hanging in the balance, let us hope that those who are today in the position to make these decisions will follow the example of our city fathers of a century ago and "exhibit patriotism and good judgement" to assure the preservation of our cultural and material heritage. For no matter whether it is one day or one hundred years after the fact, this is something that cannot be "rebuilt!"

Last Updated November 6, 2005