Wednesday Mystery Spot

After perspicacious Mystery Spotters guessed building after building after building, Dusty D got fed up. "Fine!" I secretly fumed. "OK, next time you get NO BUILDINGS." And I was true to my word; last week's M.S. was only some weird lump in the middle of a field. HA!
Did that foil you? (jaw clenches) Of course not! (forces grin, looks really fake). I can't win.

BF correctly guessed that this was the old cover for the city well, in the southernmost tail of what is now Water Works Park. You can still find a few old bricks and things if you poke around out there; it's an atmospheric spot, with the mysterious piles of sand and wood chips and what-all. The railroad ran along the east side of Huron down to the waterworks plant. The photo is looking west from the east side of the river to the city well at center left on this 1895 map.
So, with the solution to this most elusive of Spots, I conclude that there is no way for me to win Mystery Spot.

Wait. Or can I? How about a Goat? How about a goat and a Cart? How about a goat-cart pulling a little boy? Pulling him on a street you may have traveled...or not. I have! In fact I was on this street today, secretly passing judgment on the folks who didn't shovel their walks to my specifications. But w h e r e?

So my dears, (dusts off hands, hooks thumbs into suspenders with confident complacency, realizes that those aren't my suspenders, apologizes to random angry guy, slinks off), the gauntlet is thrown down. Lemme see you guess THIS li'l doozy!

Man Held Aloft on Mighty Geyser of Water from Ypsilanti Water Works, 1890

Kind readers may have understandably scoffed when Dusty D recently informed them that Ypsilanti's 1898 water system was one of the best in the state. "Poppycock!" they may have muttered, "they couldn't even bill people sanely." Dusty D understands the skepticism, but what if I told you the water was so pure it cured kidney ailments, allegedly, and so mighty it could keep a man aloft on its Old Faithful-like stream? The latter is precisely what happened in March of 1890, as recorded by the Ypsi Sentinel. Doubters, take heed.

"An interesting exhibition of the water works was given a short time since at the Cross Street Bridge," notes the article. At the time, pipes for hooking up people were spreading out through the city, and in the previous summer, the first house had been connected: the Cornwell House at 203 N. Huron [now Beyer Apartments].
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The engineers and spectators at the Cross Street bridge that day were out to test the strength of the system. First was a test of how far the water could spray horizontally. "A plug was fastened to the end of a long tape-line, and inserted in the nozzle of the hydrant. At the word, water was turned on, and away shot the plug, leading out the line like a bomb of a life saving station" [a rope lifeline "shot" to, e.g., someone drowning]. The amazing distance of 175 feet, six and five-eighths inches was recorded. The crowd cheered and clapped.

Now for the vertical test. The engineers pointed the nozzle straight up. "The same plug and string were used, but the plug fell off on the ascent, and the exact measurement was lost." Oh, no!

"The engineer was not to be foiled, however. Detaching the plug, and taking the end of the line between his teeth, he grasped the ascending column of water, and up he shot to the height of one hundred and fifty feet, at which point, the ascending stream began to fall back." From his roaring, foamy perch, the gutsy engineer got a blurry glimpse of the city, far below, through a shimmering rainbow.

"When his assistant below saw that his ascent was stopped, he marked the line, sang out "ALL RIGHT!" and the daring climber slid down the column of water as gracefully as ever a sailor came down a rope from a mast-head."

Now, THIS was the caliber of the dauntless, resourceful, adventurous men who built our water system in 1898. Surely no one can now doubt its excellence. A tip of the hard hat to the engineers who gave Ypsilanti this awe-inspiring system of renown.

1898 Ypsilanti Water Works: "If You've Got a Barber Chair, A Public Bath Tub, and a Cow, That'll Be Extra"

Ypsilanti was known for having a good municipal water service, inaugurated in 1898. Three years later, the system had 900 connections serving 4,500 customers, out of a population of 6,000 (75% of residents). To compare, Kalamazoo's system at that time was 24 years old and only served 9,000 of its 23,000 residents (39%). The 1892 Michigan Engineer notes, "Four fifths of all the water works systems in the country are of this inferior type." In contrast, Ypsi offered good service and good water quality. It was housed in the former Cornwell Paper Mill building, at Stewart Street and the river, near Factory St. & Grove.

If the service was efficient, the billing system was anything but. The company used water meters for customers, but also tacked on a Byzantine array of extra charges depending on your water use. For example, if you signed up for the "lawn sprinkling" option, you were strictly prohibited from using this allotment for your garden (unless you also signed up for the extra "garden" option). Oh, and you could ONLY sprinkle your lawn from 5:30 to 8 a.m. or 5 to 7:30 p.m., with a hand-held hose NO WIDER than 3/4 inch WITH nozzle. If you didn't like hand-sprinkling, use of a mechanical sprinkler was $1 extra PER SPRINKLER, on TOP of the initial charge for...gahh! [head explodes]

You had better pin down precisely what type of toilet you had before signing up. Private pan? Flowing? Self-closing? Private automatic closing urinal? Single acting valve? Double acting valve?








Manufacturers with 10 employees or under were charged $5, but offices with only 4 employees or under were charged the same, for cryptic reasons.


Why were billiard halls charged per pool table, and not per restroom/faucet fixture? Another mystery.

Oh, and it looks as though in the entire dwelling house, which I take to mean private residence, there was usually only ONE faucet total in the entire building, and that in the kitchen.

Presumably each barber chair had its own sink, as today. They also apparently had "public bath tubs." DD will pass on that, thank you.

Phew. Imagine being the bookkeeper for the Ypsilanti Water Works! And now it's time to go make some lemonade with one of the TWO luxurious hot AND cold faucets in the house and go water the gar--er, I mean, lightly sprinkle the lawn. Just a little lawn-sprinkling, officer, that's all. With a regulation hose, see?