2008 Year in Review

THE DAY MORRISON EXPLODED!

In July of 2008, Morrison residents were informed by ComEd and Nicor Gas that the former gas plant property at the corner of W. Market and Orange Streets would be undergoing an environmental cleanup. The gas company sent a different message on May 2, 1919. That was the day a gas plant explosion rocked Morrison.

The Sentinel headlines that day read, CITY SHAKEN BY TERRIFIC BLAST AT 8:00 THIS MORNING. It was actually at 7:50 that the explosion shook Morrison, broke windows, shook buildings, and was heard as far away as Round Grove and Lyndon. The blast left the plant a pile of rubble.

Just a week before, the plant had undergone a detailed inspection; the employees had done a routine inspection that morning, before starting to manufacture gas. Harry Schuler, an employee, had just left the west part of the plant to start a batch of gas and had moved to the east end, which was separated by a partition. He was standing on a platform when he heard a slight pop. The next thing he knew, he was lying on the roof of a connecting passageway east of the building. He said he didn't know whether he had crawled or had been blown through a small window that measured 2 1/2 foot square. He didn't remember the explosion at all!

None of the employees were seriously injured, and none would venture a guess as to what had caused the explosion. The gas-making machinery was housed in a cement block building 40 feet long and 20 feet wide. The building was divided by a cement block wall. The explosion blew out the wall between the two sections and appeared to have damaged most of the machinery, leaving twisted pipes, broken blocks, and piles of debris.

The damage to surrounding buildings was extensive. Mrs. Nellie Stapleton, who lived across the tracks, had 14 broken windows, and her dishes and glassware were knocked off their shelves. The only house in the neighborhood that had no broken windows was Mrs. Galen Cochran. By good luck, a barn stood between her house and the blast and evidently took most of the shock. A. E. Fletcher had a large plate-glass window broken. There were many broken windows in the area. A store building a half block away had several bricks knocked loose.

I guess, because in “the good old days” the environmental impact wasn't the factor it would be today, they almost immediately began to rebuild the facility. No need to wait for a governmental inspection or government approval. Pictures of the plant showed nothing but a pile of debris, yet they hoped to have it up and running in a week. It took a little longer than they expected, but after a couple of weeks they were again supplying gas to Morrison. They had told their customers to shut off their gas and that they should listen for the fire whistle to blow five times. That would be the signal to turn their gas valves back on. When the whistle blew, within ten minutes the gas was back! They soon started to rebuild the destroyed building.

There were problems other than folks having to light up their old wood-burning cook stoves. The Libby milk plant had to shut down, because they had no way of heating the water needed in the plant. The Sentinel had to take its copy to Clinton to have the Herald set their type before they could print the paper.

According to a story in the intriguing book, Greater Morrison, which is for sale at Morrison’s Heritage Museum, the Morrison Light and Power Company was organized in 1890. It produced incandescent gas for streetlights and customer use. The business grew; by 1905 the name was changed to Morrison Gas and Electric Co. That was when the new gas plant was built. By 1909 they had 10 miles of gas mains and 550 meters had been installed. The plant was the first low-pressure water gas plant to be installed in a town as small as Morrison, and its income exceeded any other plant of its type in the United States.

It seems that when the gas plant was being proposed, there were some Morrison residents living near the proposed site who were against it being built in the "heart of the city." That "not in my backyard" sentiment was around then, too. I am sure that after May 2, 1919, they said—“I told you so!”

As to the W. Market Street clean up, it certainly looks nice; I guess, better late than never.

by Orville Goodenough, Guest Columnist
October 2, 2008