Ohio spring once resort
EDITOR’S NOTE: In recent weeks, staff
writer John Maglinger has traveled hundreds of miles in our area visiting with
interesting people. This is the first of
five reports on what he found.
By JOHN MAGLINGER
Messenger-Inquirer Staff
SULPHUR SPRINGS, KY. – The old dance hall
isn’t what it used to be and the yellow poplar hotel is missing altogether, but
if you look hard enough you can find traces of what made this quaint Ohio
County settlement a fashionable health resort at the turn of the century.
Tucked away some 200 yards
off Kentucky 69 – just south of Dundee – a bone dry sulphur well raises its
antique head beneath a cedarwood shelter.
Years ago, its water was
hailed as an elixir by persons anxious to ward off certain “constitutional
imbalances,” that were considered harbingers of failing health.
The surrounding countryside,
lined with elm, maple and beech trees, also provided a relaxing backdrop for
those interested in escaping the heat of the city.
Since his father operated the summer
resort from 1918 until 1931, John Magan has more than a passing acquaintance
with the fluxuating fortunes of Sulphur Springs.
“In the horse and buggy era, this was the
gathering place for the folks around here,” Magan said.
In 1880, a stagecoach from Owensboro
traveled the gravel roads to Sulphur Springs jostling passengers over
chuckholes and causing one wry gentleman
to remark that he needed a taste of something stronger than sulphur water after
making the trip.
Others booked passage on the showboats
that roamed Rough River, disembarking at Hartford and completing the 10-mile
journey to the resort by carriage.
After its initial success, Sulphur Springs
fell on hard times and when Magan’s father assumed ownership the resort was a ramshackled,
overgrown mass of foliage and cracked timbers.
“My father had to have men cut down the
bushes, drain off the water in the lowlands, and the dance hall was so rotted,
he built a new one,” the 72-year -old Magan said.
The dance hall – which is now used as a
storage area – once throbbed to the music of an 8-piece band as breathless couples swayed and pivoted across
its polished floor to such “hot” numbers as “The Wang Wang Blues” and “Toot
Toot Tootsie.”
“There also were barbecues and chicken
dinners,” Magan said, “and people would
bring their jugs, tin cups and glasses and fill up at the well.”
On a typical Sunday, the gentlemen played
croquet while the younger set paired off beneath the shade trees, gossiping
noisily and hoping the sun would hurry down so they could hold hands without
being rebuked by their parents.
Ever so often, a lady would detach herself
from a circle of friends and walk to the sulphur well for another cupful of the
restorative liquid.
“The local people used to call it a
‘sulphur gum’ well,” Magan said, “because it was lined with gum tree wood. The wood was later replaced with clay tiles,
though.”
Not only was the sulphur water renowned
for its curative powers, but the rich, black mud that oozed from the base of
the well also had its uses.
“The mud was thought to cure foot
sores,” Charles Conkwright, Magan’s
great-nephew said, “but the women applied it as a facial treatment.
Although there are only a few homes in
Sulphur Springs today, the community once boasted a post office, drug store,
two grocery stores, a church and, of course, the 20-room hotel to accommodate
out-of-town visitors.
Its rough-sawed beams were constructed in
1873 – and despite a fire six years later – the building was as sturdy as ever
when it was razed several years ago, according to Magan’s sister, Jessie
Kester.
Mrs. Kester, whose home now rests on the
hotel’s former site, recalls the furnishings in the various bedrooms:
“Each had a straw mat rug, an iron bed, a
washbone pitcher and a china chamber pot,” she said.
When the property was sold to the
Methodist church in the '30's, the dance pavilion was converted into a meeting
hall and Magan said that the preachers would sometimes claim “the devil lived
under this very floor”.
Whatever the medicinal properties of
sulphur water actually were, Mrs. Kester said the bands of gypsies who used to
pass through the area considered it something special.
“They would baptize their children in the
sulphur water,” she said, “and give it to them to drink. I never saw a little baby refuse it – they’d
even cry for more – but the dogs wouldn’t touch it.”
Sounding what was probably the prevailing
opinion of the time, Conkwright – who sampled the water before the well went
dry – said:
“If you’re thirsty, it tastes good. If not, you had to hold your nose to get it
down.”
Transcribed
as published in the Messenger-Inquirer on October 26, 1975
This article was sent to me by Terry Acton. It is much appreciated.
