Last Monday at about 2:15 in the afternoon two men rode into Sylvan Grove from the south and a third man rode in from the west, simultaneously. None of them wore masks or any other disguise, and none of them wore any visible arms.
At the time no one associated the first two men with the third, as their appearance in town at the same time was apparently a coincidence only.
The two men from the south stopped on their horses on Main street directly across the street (and east) of the Sylvan Grove State Bank and in the most casual way engaged the few people nearby in conversation about the weather, the road and distance to Lincoln, and other everyday talk.
The third stranger tied his horse to a stone post on the edge of the street directly opposite Bowen's livery barn, and 50 yards west and about 10 feet north of the bank, which has a north and east frontage, with the front door in the east end. He then walked down the hill, along the side of the bank, rounded the northeast corner of the building and entered the front door.
The only occupant of the bank was William D. Schermerhorn, a young man 19 years of age, who was temporarily in charge, as a clerk only. The cashier, John Calene, was away.
The stranger laid a dollar on the counter and asked young Schermerhorn for a dollar's worth of small change. When the change was laid on the counter he raked it and the silver dollar off into his pocket. Schermerhorn reminded him of the "mistake" when the stranger flopped a pistol in his face and with threats of instant death if he resisted or gave the alarm, stepped around through the wicket behind the counter. With one hand he held a sack and ordered Schermerhorn to dump all the available funds into it. Schermerhorn refused to comply, telling him to help himself though, as everything was within reach. The robber then struck Schermerhorn over the head with the pistol. The blow staggered him, and though he could have kept his feet, he thought it discreet to take a complete fall, and in doing so he fell directly across a Sharp's rifle. The robber evidently was aware that the clerk was not injured much, as he kept of a volley of vicious threats at him as he proceeded to hurriedly dump gold, silver and bills into the sack himself. The robber then went to the rear door (in the west end and fronting up the hill where his horse was tied). The latch would not yield to his fingertips and he peremptorily ordered the clerk to unlatch it. Schermerhorn arose and opened the door. As the robber stepped out he said, "If you come outside within 10 minutes you will be killed. There are seven men on the outside who will 'do' you." He then started on a quick walk up the hill.
The two men on horseback had shifted their position some, working around to the north when the third man entered the bank, evidently so they could cover his retreat when he came out of the west door. They rode at an ordinary gait up the hill a short distance behind and to one side of the man on foot (they being in the street and he coming off the bank lot onto the edge of the street).
At this juncture Schermerhorn, finding himself alone, grabbed the Sharp's rifle and ran out the east door, turned a sharp angle and took aim westward up the hill from the northwest corner of the building, at the robber, just as the latter was about 12 feet from where his horses was tied.
The report of the gun was probably the very first intimation to the bandits that anything was wrong, as the two on horseback were undoubtedly watching the back door.
The robber on foot walked straight up to the post after being hit, a distance of 12 feet, and attempted to unhitch his horse. While doing so he began to stagger about and fell in a second or two on his back without getting the horse loose.
The men on horseback then went up the hill on the run firing a fusillade of pistol shots back at Schermerhorn, who ran into the bank after a Winchester, the Sharp's having only one cartridge.
At the top of the hill the mounted men fired a dozen pistol shots in various directions, two of the shots striking the bank building. They were unquestionably badly rattled, as they failed to even unhitch the third man's horse, or pick up the sack of money which was lying on the ground with the wounded man, who, as it transpired, lived but a moment.
There was a moment of stupid, fumbling indecision on the part of the mounted robbers, who, had they been self-possessed only, without necessarily being quick, could have secured the money and the dead man's horse.
Schermerhorn was on the outside with his Winchester in time to have picked off one or two men, but though he industriously worked the trigger he forgot the lever and the gun refused to do execution. At this junction Will Brumbaugh grabbed the Winchester and took three shots at the mounted robbers, who then deserted dead man, horse and money and took to the prairie, riding northwest on a gallop.
After the mounted men had decamped Schermerhorn went up the hill and brought back to the bank the sack of money, which was counted. Its contents were $1,490 in cash.
A violent dust storm arose a short time afterward which made trailing very difficult, though several men attempted to give chase. Among them was A.R. Buzick, president of the bank, mounted on the animal ridden by the dead robber. All returned in a few hours.
The dead man was removed to an empty room and stripped, when it was found that the ball from the Sharp's rifle had struck him about halfway from the point of the right hip to the right shoulder blade, three inches to the right of the spine. It had ranged upward and to the left, through both lungs and heart, severing the aorta, and out at the left breast. The hemorrhage was profuse.
He was 5 feet, 8 inches tall, quite spare, weighing about 135 pounds, having evidently been very lithe and active. His forehead was receding, nose prominent, eyes set rather prominent. His hair was profuse, brown in color with a yellowish tinge; mustache was large, thick and overhanging, and yellowish brown. There were two slight scars upon the scalp, and a slight scar just below the right knee.
Twenty-five dollars would cover the value of the dead man's clothes, which included two pairs of drawers and three undershirts.
A broad belt was strapped around his body reaching from below the waist to the arm pits. It contained 250 cartridges and two 44-calibre pistols, which were the only arms upon him. Besides a jackknife was a purse with four or five collars in silver, the dead man's money.
Two bottles of whisky, a bottle of liniment, several vials of medicine, and lint, cotton and bandages in profusion were stored away in his pockets. Among these effects was a slip of paper containing the following address: "Stephen McKee, Hickory street, St. Joseph, Mo." There was also a prescription signed "Garland, M.D., Morganville, Clay county."
The whole outfit showed that the owner was out as a road agent, fixed to fight, to take care of his own wounds, if he received any, to lie out in the cold, and to take all the chances of a desperado's life.
The captured horse was a fine bay mare, about eight years old, built for speed and bottom.
The following account of a tragic accident appeared in a Sylvan Grove paper [Sylvan Grove News] carrying the date July 6, 1905:
On Wednesday afternoon, June 28, the people of Sylvan Grove were startled by one of the most horrible catastrophes that ever befell a small town. Usually the fatal results of fireworks are not seen until on or after the Fourth of July, but already Sylvan has had such a terrifying exhibition in the deadly work of patriotic explosives that doubtless there will be little desire for the final display of pyrotechnics hereafter.
In the south window of Raffety Brothers� store there was the usual amount of Fourth of July goods which the careful merchants had thought to guard by arranging a double counter running to the window. Unfortunately three small children were back of the second counter where one of the clerks was showing the goods. Two of the children were daughters of William Mahoney of Pottersburg, the third was their cousin, Luella, daughter of Ernest Andresen of Denmark.
When the deadly stuff began to explode the clerk hurried the children away from the fire while they were yet unharmed. He started them toward the door in safety, then hastened with the other clerks to the rear of the store after water to extinguish the fire.
Bewildered by fright and blinded by the fire and smoke of the deafening explosions, Susie and Honora Mahoney ran up between the two counters to the window, while the little Andresen girl ran into the passage to the door and escaped uninjured. The misfortunate Susie and Honora, seeing their mother on the outside leaped into the window in the midst of the fire and tried in vain to break the window, while the frantic attempts against the unyielding glass was continued until the despairing children left the window lost in flame and smoke within. In the meantime the Raffety Brothers and clerks, ignorant of the human distress so near at hand, were working with all possible strength and rapidity to save the building.
It was not long before the figures of the fated children, rapped in cruel flames, darted into the open air from the north door. The sight of those two innocent victims of the fire, was enough to wring the stoniest heart and melt into tears those whose eyes had long been unused to such evidence of pity.
As soon as the children were seen men rushed to their rescue and extinguished the fire in their clothes. They were carried immediately to Mr. Mollenkamp�s rooms, where they had all the medical assistance that could be procured and the careful attendance of kind friends. A telephone message was sent to Mr. Mahoney who came as soon as possible to the bedside of his suffering children, where the scene was one of the most sorrowful ever witnessed and was only made more touching by the pitiful pleadings of the little ones in their tender solicitude for their parents.
Although every available means was used to spare the lives of the two children, they gradually succumbed to the fatal injuries received in the fire and explosions, enduring the pain of the frightful burns with angelic patience and martyr-like endurance, they clung to life until 6 o�clock Thursday morning when unwelcome, yet merciful, death unlocked the door and with gentle hand, led the eldest, Honora, into a quiet peaceful rest of a new and glorious life and at noon, six hours later, ushered the little sunbeam, Susie, into the same fair land where a number of sisters and a brother waited in the presence of the loving Father.
The Sylvan people showed immeasurable kindness toward the family stricken by so great a calamity and the Raffety Bros., in whose store the sad accident occurred, hesitated at nothing that could be done for the bereaved ones.
The problems of fare cannot be solved; just why such an accident should have happened cannot be explained. It is true, however, that accidents of this order are sadly frequent and will continue as long as the Fourth of July is celebrated by the use of modern fireworks.
In the case of Sylvan�s disaster there should be no blame attached to anyone, for the catastrophe was purely accidental, and no one was responsible for the sad results. For rather than have had such a tragedy occur, any man would have risked his life had he been aware of the immediate peril of the young lives involved.
It is to be earnestly hoped that this will be the last of fireworks in Sylvan Grove, and that the sale of the dangerous goods will be suppressed throughout the country.
The above story recalls to Mrs. Chris Lehmkuhl of Denmark very vividly an experience in her life she is not likely to ever forget as she was the Luella Andresen mentioned in the article. Fireworks were banned from sale in Sylvan Grove after the accident, and as far as Mrs. Lehmkuhl knows the ban was never lifted.
Lincoln Sentinel-Republican, 25 September 1997