On Dixon’s Founders Day, the 1873 Truesdell Bridge disaster comes full circle

DIXON – In Tom Wadsworth’s capable hands, the story of the May 4, 1873 Truesdell Bridge collapse was not just the factual recounting of the deaths of 46 people.

Like many others whose ties with Dixon go back generations, it was a deeply personal account, a lineage that’s tied to loss and survival.

How a spring day and a crowd that had gathered on the ironwork span to see baptisms in the Rock River turned horrific, both for them and the crowd of couple hundred on the riverbank that were helpless bystanders as the bridge flipped over.

“Now I’ll tell you about my great-great-great grandmother,” said Wadsworth. “She was on the bridge, and that story has come down through my family for years.”

For most of his 90-minute Founders Day presentation Tuesday evening at Loveland Community Building and Museum, Wadsworth let the lyrics of Jon McLemore’s song about that “dark day in Dixon” serve as the theme of his address.

I’m not trying to draw conclusions, for the most part. I’m trying to tell you exactly what they said in 1873, not what somebody said in an afterthought.”

—  Tom Wadsworth

An audience of nearly 150 people listened with rapt attention as the tale was told with elements of suspense, feats of heroism, expressions of pathos and grief, and touches of tension-relieving laughter.

There was the “crack, fall and shriek” that witnesses repeated hearing and experiencing. How those in the water struggled in panic and fright with others to reach the surface even as the tipped structure sank and trapped them. And then the heartbreaking efforts to pull people, many with mangled bodies, free of the razor-like ironworks to homes on the north shore.

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From the north shore of the Rock River, Dixon historian Tom Wadsworth explains the history of the Truesdell Bridge Disaster of 1873 on Founders Day, Tuesday, April 11, 2023 near the present-day Galena Avenue Bridge. He was scheduled to make a presentation in the evening. (Troy Taylor)

But Wadsworth, a meticulous historian and engaging public speaker, never stopped circling back to examine the real toll on lives and families exacted by the failure of a 660-length truss of iron and wood, relying on written accounts of the time.

“I’m not trying to draw conclusions, for the most part,” Wadsworth said. “I’m trying to tell you exactly what they said in 1873, not what somebody said in an afterthought.”

Or the fact his own existence was owed to a split-second decision by Christan Goble – who had days earlier just moved back to Dixon – to toss her 3-year-old granddaughter Gertie Wadsworth to safety. Christan, however, died.

Years later, he saw to it that her gravesite tombstone was repaired with a plaque that noted her death in the bridge disaster.

But his story was just one. He told of others in the course of his dissertation:

– Baptist Church pastor J.H. Pratt, who was conducting the baptism, was amid the bodies after the bridge fell and whose funeral sermons later spoke of divine judgment, but whose life was soon consumed by melancholy and he left town within the year.

– Many people in the water clung to the bridge’s wood planks, which were extended into the river as a lifeline.

– Victims who had been standing on the pedestrian walkway then became trapped between the railing and the 15-foot wall of criss-cross ironworks that pinned and skewered their bodies as the bridge toppled over.

– C.H. Keyes and his herculean effort to reach the north bank. He was at the Methodist church on the south side, raced downhill to the river upon hearing of the news, then ran downstream along the riverbank to the elevated railroad bridge and made an almost tightrope-like walk to reach the north bank where he again raced upriver to join in the rescue of the injured.

– Jacob Armstrong, the 16-year-old who survived the fall by crawling along the gravel base of the riverbed to get underneath the fallen trussworks.

– Apparent drowning victim Clara Burr was revived through the efforts of John Barry, who used an antiquated technique of rolling her body over a barrel to push water from her lungs.

– The tragedy disproportionately claimed the lives of women and children. Of the 46 who died, 37 were women, 14 were under the age of 18. The youngest victims were sisters Lucia Hendrix, age 4, and Althea Hendrix, age 6. Althea was among the five “missing” whose bodies were later recovered beyond the bend of the river and in the vicinity of Sterling-Rock Falls.

– Newspaper accounts said it seemed every residence in town of 4,000 was displaying ribbons and wreaths of black crepe as a sign of mourning and the endless tolling of church bells.

– Last, of course, was the villain of the tale: bridge contractor L.E. Truesdell, a master of marketing whose “lattice bridge design” was proved to be without merit on the basis of scrutiny by competent engineers.

The incident did prompt later reforms and engineering professionalism while the city council subsequently chose proven designs in evaluating future bridge constructions.

The presentation included two bits of news. First, a new memorial display, eight-feet in length, will be erected on the north bank of the river for the 150th anniversary of the disaster. Second, Mark Stach, who has been combing the river for artifacts of the truss bridge, was approached about a lattice remnant that had been in a farm family’s possession and was on display on Tuesday.

This was the second time Wadsworth has recounted the bridge disaster during Founders Day festivities.