Outings Were a Lark at Pine Island Park
I've decided to change jobs. I'm not going to be a journalist anymore.
I'm going to be an entrepreneur.
Yup, gonna start my own bidness. I don't know where I'll get the money and I'm not sure what we're going to make but I do know that we're going to have our company outings at Pine Island Park.
Face it, the old Queen City hasn't been the same since the last roller coaster rider tossed his Moxie on the Midway at Pine Island 30 years ago.
You young readers - the ones who think the early episodes of "Full House" qualify as nostalgia - are probably wondering what all the fuss is about, but all I can tell you is that a trip to Pine Island was more fun than accordion music.
Our story today begins at the dawn of the 20th century. Manchester was a drab, boring, sack-cloth-and-ashes, working-class textile city back then, but after 90 some-odd years of dashing civic leadership, we've managed to eliminate the textile part. (Sorry. Had to meet my Pithy Social Commentary Quota. It's a union thing).
Anyway, in 1901, the Manchester Traction, Light & Power Co., having detected a serious shortage of merriment, decided to open an amusement park to bring joy and laughter to the city. And mirth. Mirth was good, but not too much mirth.
As proof, on the eve of the park's opening on Aug. 2, 1902, the utility's top dog - J. Brodie Smith - proclaimed, "There will be nothing there for those who wish to go for the sole purpose of guzzling beer." Guzzling beer was too mirthful.
By sheer coincidence, it was decided that the unnamed park would be built in the Goffe's Falls area, which coincided - coincidentally - with the end of the trolley car line, which was owned by - another amazing coincidence here - Manchester Traction, Light & Power!
Now don't get me wrong. Trolley guys may have been a million laughs, but the real reason trolley companies all over America built amusement parks all over America was to get riders on the weekend and, after a wild week weaving woolens, your average lint-covered mill worker would stand on his head and spit nickels into the till for a trolley ride to an amusement park.
As old-timers will attest, one of the best things about a trip to Pine Island Park (as it was officially dubbed by contest winner Bertha Carpenter) was the 18-minute trolley car ride that got you there from City Hall.
Once visitors arrived, they were delivered unto "a wonderful pine grove on the shores of a beautiful lake," according to an early brochure, which encouraged employers to book company outings that might help "develop a friendly spirit of good fellowship," which is not to overlook the important bonding over fistfights at company softball games.
The company outings - highlighted by nighttime fireworks - drew monstrous gatherings. There were the fun-loving folks from Amoskeag Manufacturing and the fun-loving gangs from the B&M Railroad and the fun-loving residents of Boston's Chinatown, who were so fun-loving that they were getting high on more than the Aeroplane Ride if that legendary Pine Island opium bust is any indication.
"Any time the park had a big group coming in, we'd just sneak in with them," said Rachel (Dancause) Zyla, 79, who crashed parties at Pine Island until she was old enough to draw her first paycheck there in 1930.
"There were so many people at an outing, they never knew who was who. The bets thing was always the bag lunch. It always had a square box of Fearon's Ice Cream, three flavors, and you'd eat it with a wooden spoon."
Of course, in the dialect of the day, "spooning" involved more than ice cream at Pine Island. There was some serious courtin' afoot at the roller rink, the swimming hole, the boat house and the Venetian Gardens Ballroom, but those sites are fodder for future features. Today, we're meandering on the Midway.
Don't crowd folks.
Plenty of rides for everyone.
In addition to The Pretzel, the Dodgems and the Custer Car Speedway, Pine Island's rides included the Honeymoon Express Ferris Wheel, a 65-footer that featured two-seater cars named after famous cities like London, Boston and New York. Alas, it only had 16 cars, so less-famous cities like Mayberry and Hooterville got left out.
Then there was The Whip, which promised "sundry, eccentric and exhilarating jerks that remind you of boyhood days," although personally, I haven't forgotten the jerks from my boyhood days, and I never needed a ride to remember them.
Naturally, there was a Carousel, a classic Philadelphia Toboggan model with magnificent critters standing three abreast. There were glorious horses, yes, but even the lions and tigers had legitimate horsepower, according to operator Paul Erickson.
"Let me tell you, you had to hold on," said Paul, 58, whose father, John Erickson, owned half a dozen rides during the Barney Williams era. "I'm a real lover of merry-go-rounds, and this was the fastest one I've ever seen."
The odds were about 20-to-1 against for those of us who were brave enough to grab for the brass ring, but even those long odds were better than the odds facing some of the maniacs on the Pine Island Roller Coaster.
"What used to floor me was when guys would start the ride in the back seat and when the ride stopped, they'd be in the front," said Lyman Carter, 78. "They'd actually be crawling over the seats during the ride and I'd have to throw them out before the got killed."
Oh heck, Lyman, from the outset, death was defied on a daily basis at Pine Island. In 1907, daredevil William Ullerin hung by his teeth and made his way across a 500-foot wire strung over the pond and in 1909, a one-armed Aeronaut named George Bushor fell 1,000 feet into the pond from a balloon when his parachute failed to open.
Maybe he put the ripcord on the wrong side.
Back in 1910, disaster was somehow averted when "Beppo the Trainer Bear" dashed into the crowd although it wasn't entirely averted in 1912 when dirigible pilot Jenkins Parker had to leap for his life just before his craft crashed into the roller coaster.
Still, Pine Island park managed to survive those theatrical disasters. It even survived natural disasters (like hurricanes) and unnatural disasters (like Bic-flicking vandals) but in the end, what Pine Island couldn't survive was progress.
First World War II robbed America of much of her innocence and the advent of the automobile made distant attractions seem far less far-flung, but nevertheless, if you listen real hard next time you're in the South End, you can still hear the roller coaster clattering along the tracks of your memory.
