Answer to Ypsi Trivia Question

"In 1906, there was only one business open at night. It wasn't a saloon--those closed at 10:30 p.m., and weren't even open on Sundays. Or weren't supposed to be. It wasn't a 24-hour gas station, of course, or a 24-hour big box store, naturally. But it was big! In the darkness, when almost all the lights in town were doused, one place burned with light, noise, and energy!"

Several people answered on the blog and on FB. Guesses included "railroad station," "Western Union," "hospital" (Beyer did not yet exist) and "gas station" (there weren't any yet--folks bought gas, early in the car area, at grocery stores in Ypsi).

In 1906, the city imposed a curfew. The January 16, 1906 Ypsilanti Daily Press said, "[The curfew] provides that children under 16 be under police supervision after 8 p.m. unless they are accompanied by their guardian or parents. It gives the police powers to arrest any child without a warrant, but that such child must be taken to its home before anything else is done. It also provides that the curfew shall be sounded five minutes before the time mentioned."

But who would sound the curfew? The police didn't have any big whistles or sirens. The answer came a few days later in a January 22 story called, "No Booze Next Sunday."

The cops were cracking down on saloons. Would you believe--some were actually open on Sunday! That was gonna stop, and now. "If the law on Sunday closing has not been observed in the past it will be in the future, and I can promise you that next Sunday will be a dry one," said the paper. "The police have their orders and will carry them out. There will be no discrimination shown, and if any one breaks the law he will have to answer for it in court. Attention will also be paid to the closing of saloons at 10:30 o'clock standard every night. I also wish you would call attention to the fact that the curfew ordinance foes into effect next Wednesday. From then on the curfew bell will ring, or rather the whistle of the Peninsular mills will blow. Mr. Quirk says he will be pleased to do this, and as that is the only establishment that remains open at night it will probably be the only warning given."

There you have it. As Ypsilanti slumbered in the darkness, the flywheels whirled, the rollers spun, the lights blazed, and the paper dust flew far into the night at the Peninsular Paper Mill. In an era without Internet, TV, or radio, the sound of Peninsular Mills' machinery clanking and roaring across the river was the precursor to the thwack! of a million Chicago Tribunes landing on front porches hundreds of miles away.