New Police Department & City Hall Building
New Police Department & City Hall Building
In 1909, when the Pennsylvania Railroad excavated the North Main Street tunnel, the old city hall and jail were razed. Another and larger building next door and farther north was secured and equipped as headquarters for the town government and the police department. It was dedicated in 1910.
Many times, in the rapidly growing and spreading borough, citizens had trouble in locating a policeman. To solve this problem, council had two call boxes with red lights atop the poles installed on Main Street at the Otterman and Pittsburgh Street intersections. Those in need called the desk sergeant at city hall. He in turn would activate a switch that flashed the red light atop the poles and the police would run to the telephone call boxes to learn what was wanted. The system was satisfactory and more call boxes were erected until a total of 17 webbed the different town wards. Officers were obligated through all kinds of weather to make regular rounds afoot, their calls being recorded by the desk sergeant at City Hall.
The town moved along with satisfactory police service until the coming of the automobile. The first fatal auto accident, involved the death of a pedestrian, and occurred November 22, 1909. It happened on East Pittsburgh Street, near the railroad overpass and in front of the Morris L. Painter residence. A new White Steamer driven by W. F. Overly, struck 69-year-old Robert Forsythe, who was fatally injured. The newly purchased car was on one of its first trips. Witnesses reported the man and two companions were apparently inebriated and walking up the middle of the street. When the car came along, the man became confused, wobbled into the slowly moving auto, and suffered a broken neck.
Eventually, the increasing traffic demanded a cop at principal downtown street corners. It was not long until the city fathers realized than an officer on foot could not match speed with the automobile. As a result, council motorized the police department with motorcycles in 1917. Patrol cars were to be added shortly thereafter.
The year of 1910 was busy for Chief Boomer and the police department. In April 1910 a South Main Street fruit dealer shot and killed a Crabtree man who on behalf of the terrorist Black Hand group demanded $1,000. Black Hand was a name used by Mafia-associated elements who engaged in extortion.
In December 1910, Police Chief Joseph Boomer made the rounds of 21 reported “houses of ill repute” in the borough, advising them to close in ten days or expect more drastic action. Although the police had little power under then existing law to “enter upon the premises and make any arrest,” the action was strongly supported by the Greensburg Ministerial Association and others.
A January 1911 sweep through opium and whiskey “dives” downtown in January 1911 resulted in 15 arrests. At an opium den at West Pittsburgh and Pennsylvania Streets, police found opium pipes, opium, a bed for smokers, and other articles.
From the incorporation of the borough, the police had guarded the town well. Major crimes were few and far between. The officers as a whole performed their duties fearlessly, courageously and efficiently. They realized that over the years fortune had stood them in good stead despite their hazardous occupation.
This period of good luck was not to last forever, for in the dead of night on March 12, 1925, the greatest gun battle ever staged by Greensburg Police took place.
During the very early morning hours a red Cadillac pulled up at the Standard garage next to the YMCA on Pittsburgh Street. The driver got 15 gallons of gasoline and then asked for a quart of oil. When S.L. “Red” Palmer, the attendant, stepped inside the garage to get the oil, one of the thugs shoved a gun in his face and demanded his money-change sack. Mr. Palmer resisted, but was knocked to the floor from a blow over the head with the butt of the gun. Two of the bandits carried him to the rear of the garage where they bound and gagged him.
Robert Hayes, of George Street, a passerby, noticed the commotion. He ran up the hill to Main Street, called to Patrolman Jacob Elpern and the two hurried back to the scene. Officer Elpern asked the stranger for “Red.” He was told “Red” had gone to the restaurant. He inquired of the stranger, “Where do you live?” The reply was “Pine Street”. Elpern knew there was no street in town by that name. The thug started to move toward the door and Elpern, with years of football prowess, made a flying tackle. Both men fell to the floor. When one of the other robber gang came, the man tussling with Elpern said to his fellow bandit, “Shoot”. He then pressed the muzzle of his gun against the back of Elpern’s head and demanded, “Let him up”.
Meanwhile, Patrolman Bryant Wilson was summoned. One of the robbers immediately opened fire at Wilson and pinned him behind a telephone pole, directly across the street. When he peeped, or shoved his gun around to shoot, the bandits peppered the pole with bullets, knocking splinters into his face.
The bandits pushed Elpern toward their car. The one said, “Take him along and throw him out along the road”. The noise of the gunfire aroused roomers at the YMCA from their sleep. Those awakened took seats at windows to view the spectacular battle.
Two of the bandits jumped into the car, both shooting. Elpern still was fighting to free himself when struck by a bullet. As he lay helpless on the sidewalk, the robbers gave the eight cylinder engine of the Cadillac full throttle, turned up Pittsburgh Street zigzagging their car crazily to escape the stream of hot lead pouring from the gun of Patrolman Wilson. The wounded officer, painfully hurt, was taken to the hospital by Dewey Berger. Fortunately, he recovered in a few days.
The alarm was spread and State Policemen Frank Gleason and William Tevlin spotted the car in Irwin. They engaged the bandits in a terrific race. The speed of the bandit car was too great at East Pittsburgh where they were fairly catapulted down the old Wilmerding hill, wrecking their car.
One of the robbers had a slightly crippled leg. He was not fast afoot and was captured. He gave his name as Albert Kanner, of Chicago. He was sentenced to serve from seven to fourteen years in prison. The other two subjects made good their escape and were never apprehended.
In 1926, it became necessary for the safety of pedestrians to install Stop and Go” lights at various intersections. This was something new for motorists and brought a howl of protests. Several well-known citizens flaunted the new ordinance and defied the authorities, declaring nothing would stop them, at least a light hung over the street. Arrests were made almost daily. Many disputed the word of the arresting officer, feigning innocence. These persons were asked to raise their hand and give sworn testimony. Nearly all, rather than take the oath, paid and quietly left the city hall. Eventually, the most stubborn and defiant accepted the Stop and Go lights.