One Spark Was All It Took
In thirty 111 in II los, the Pine.v Hoods Inn —
the pride of Southern Pines — hud burned
to the ground.
By HE LEIN' G. HtTTEVHAlER
M was Friday . November 4. 1910 in
Southern Pines. School had just been
dismissed, and I was on my way home.
I lived «wo blocks from ihe school, on
«he corner of Ridge Street and New
Hampshire Avenue. I was hurrying
along. Irving lo keep my dress from
going over my head, for a strong w ind
was blowing. Funny little pieces of
something were living through the air.
too. I he fire bell had rung loud and
noisily a few minutes before dismissal.
The fire bell always scared me. and I
wanted to get home.
When I reached the Grover house
between New York and Pennsylvania
Avenues. I stopped in amazement.
Mrs. Grover was standing at the top of
the porch steps balancing a fair-sized
tubof w ater on the porch railing. When
I asked her what she was going to do
with the water, she burst into tears,
crying that the Piney Woods Inn was
burning down, that Mr. Grover had
gone to the fire, and that she was sure
some of those embers living through
the air would set the dry grass on lire.
The water was to quench any blaze
that started in the yard.
More frightened than before. I ran
the rest of the way home, to find my
mother standing at the gate anxiously
watching for me. "Papa's gone to the
fire." she began, "and I'm worried." I
told her about Mrs. Grover and the tub
of water. "You get into the house."
'he ordered, "and stay with Kffie. I'm
going to Mrs. Grover."
Eflle muttered something about Mr.
Lawrence leaving Miss Mabel alone,
and she so near her time: and I got the
impression that Papa wasn't a whit
better. I hurried upstairs and planted
myself at a window where I could
watch the black smoke now billow ing
over the location of the Inn. Then I saw
Papa running up the hill at full speed.
He didn't stop at the house but went
straight lo the barn and packing house.
We had a long driveway from New
Hampshire Avenue to the packing
house, and that driveway was roofed
over with heavy scuppernong
grapevines. A spiral of smoke was ris¬
ing from the dead leaves beneath the
sines.
Го
that spot Papa went at a run.
stopping only long enough to seize a
bucket of water at the horse trough. He
doused the blaze and spent the rest of
the afternoon and evening patrolling
the grounds.
Other Sandhill Fires
We had had fires before the Piney
Woods Inn burned. The Central Hotel,
which had stood on Bennett Street op¬
posite the Congregational Church, had
burned during the great snow storm of
January 1899. In February 1900. the
Alpha, a conglomerate housing a pri¬
vate bank, a hotel, an opera house, and
the post office, went up in a mighty
hurst of flames. And in 1903. w hen Mr.
Thomas’ house on the hill burned to
the ground, tourists standing at th<*
station watched the flames with de¬
light. thinking the town fathers had
planned a big bonfire just for their
amusement. But the destruction of the
Piney Woods Inn was by far the worst
calamity the town had ever known.
Ihe Inn was the pride of the town.
I lie only hotel in the area comparable
to the luxurious accommodations
found in Pinchurst. Built in 1895 by a
corporation, it had lately passed into
tlx* hands of Mr. J. M. Robinson, a
substantial businessman who also
owned a summer hotel in New Hamp¬
shire. The Robinsons were in the pro¬
cess of making needed repairs on the
Inn. had redecorated the interior, and
h.id just unloaded $10.000.00 worth of
new furnishings. On this Friday.
November 4. they were busy readying
the Inn for the grand opening. Maids
were cleaning the 1 10 sleeping rooms,
which could accommodate up to 200
guests, making 20 bathrooms spotless,
and overseeing the uncrating of the
new furniture. A flurry of cheerful ac¬
tivity was evident throughout the Inn's
?00-foot length, its three-story height.
Mr. Robinson had gone to the boiler
room, a semi-detached cubbyhole
covered with tar paper, and had started
a fire in the furnace. He used as kin¬
dling pieces of rotten windowsills left
by the repairmen. He noted that the
shavings of fat pine made fine kindling
and left a few pieces on the tloor in
front of the furnace for later use. Now
he and Carl were on the roof, seeing
how the hot. dry summer had treated
the shingles. Mrs. Robinson and Carl’s
wife were paying calls in the village.
Fat Pine Kindling
On the roof, the men noticed how
strong the wind was — almost a gale.
Then they noticed something else —
the odor of smoke. They descended to
the boiler room. When they opened the
door, dames rushed out to sweep up
the tar paper sides. The building was
instantly engulfed in flames. A spark
from the furnace had landed on that fat
pine kindling left at the furnace door.
Hie tar paper did the rest. The hour of
destruction had come to the Piney
Woods Inn.
Unable to stop the flames now rac¬
ing to the main building, the men
evacuated the house, plumed for the
lire department, and then rushed to the
fiimily rooms to save at least some
clothing. They saved absolutely noth¬
ing.
Ihe fire bell, which I had heard at
dismissal time, sounded with frantic
intensity. Down Broad Street raced
the fire truck, down Pennsylvania to
THE STATE. January i960
14
