Look Back: A story of suffering
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A Visit to the Woeful Regions of the Spencer Block
A Sketch of the Filth, Misery and Want in Our Midst that Baffles Description by Words
In order to ascertain if the [local] stories of suffering and poverty were really as they were represented or had been grossly exaggerated, a State Journal scribe made a tour of observation, desiring to place matters in their true light before the public. Inquiry at police headquarters revealed the fact that one of the best places for such an expedition would be the ranch known as the Spencer Block, where a colony of unfortunates had their wretched habitations. Accompanied by an officer the place was visited and the situation thoroughly canvassed.
Going into an entrance on First street where no door kept out the piercing blast, two flights of rickety stairs brought us to the third floor, the corner of which is inhabited. The floors of the various halls were reeking with filth, ashes were piled in the corners; slop was dumped on the floor; vessels containing dirty water lay about in confusion; and to make the sight more disgusting, at the sound of strange footsteps, doors were opened and the dirty faced, unkempt dwellers on "Devil's Landing," gazed at the intruders.
The first home (?) at which we called was that of a woman named Skinner. She had evidently been a fine looking woman at one time and the traces of former beauty still lingered; but she was disfigured by two black eyes, and her neck was bandaged as high as her ears. She had been hit by a drunken rough in a quarrel about a week before. Her "man" as she called a small, inoffensive looking masculine who sat on the bed, having had his life threatened by the mob. The room in which they sat was about 8×10, and contained all the furniture save a bed, which was in an adjoining room. They were out of coal and some chunks of drift[wood] represented their stock of fuel. They had nothing to eat but some beans, which are considered healthy, but are not particularly bracing as an exclusive bill of fare. One poor, forsaken looking child composed the balance of their stock in trade.
Across the hall in another small room we found a woman and two children hugging a dilapidated stove, in which was burning the last stick of drift. The woman was clad in a greasy blue and white calico Mother Hubbard, and complained of being deathly sick, speaking in the querulous tones of ill health. The air in the room was so polluted that we made quick time getting out.
The next room we entered was occupied by a mother and six children, the man being out. They had no wood or coal and the place was cold. The children were the dirtiest lot it was ever my misfortune to gaze upon, and they had but half clothing and were in their bare feet. In the intense cold they walked around on the ice in the hall. One of the younger children stood holding the palms of its hands on the top of the stove which was still warm. They had plenty to eat but the room was filthier than a hog pen.
We next entered the neatest room on the flat. The door was opened by a woman who politely invited us in. The room was neat and well kept. A love for the beautiful still retained amidst surroundings had adorned the walls with a few cheap prints and on a small shelf rested the only clock in the house. Two rosy-cheeked children stood quietly by and eyed the visitors. The woman was a widow, and had come here from West Union last summer. She had taken in sewing on her arrival, but was taken sick and had a serious siege of illness.
To be continued.....
The [Parkersburg] Daily State Journal,
Feb. 26, 1885
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Bob Enoch is president of the Wood County Historical and Preservation Society. If you have comments or questions about Look Back items, please contact him at: roberteenoch@gmail.com, or by mail at WCHPS, PO Box 565, Parkersburg, WV 26102.