What Lies Beneath

DAYTON - This journey seemed simple enough. I found an interesting piece of information on the Columbia County website about its jail. Not only is it in the longest-operating courthouse in the state and turning 125-years-old in 2012, but the jail cells in the basement are from the brig of a ship.

This is the way many great newspaper feature stories begin. We take a tidbit of interesting or weird information and we expand on it.

And as journalists work, we ask for help all the time. We need help checking our facts for budget stories. We need to ask what a libero is so we can understand the volleyball game we're covering.

But, this time I'm asking for a different kind of help. I spent two weeks working on a seemingly simple story. That is about two years in newspaper time. That is way too much time for a managing editor of a small weekly to be working on one story when she really should be working on other stories to fill the news section every week. Lots of stories make her boss happy. One halfcompleted story on a jail and a bunch of blank pages will not make him happy.

So, because I must move on and continue to cover the news, I'm providing you readers with the information I've learned so far with the hope that someone out there with more time can find the truth. The Beginning

What the heck is a brig?

This is where I began on my journey. A bit of Wikipedia and I had my answer. A brig was a style of ship, specifically a twin-masted sailing ship. Later on, the brig became known as where military prisoners were held on a ship or by Marines when they were posted on land.

Back in the 1980s, a historian named Harriet U. Fish was researching her book "Law Enforcement in Washington State: The First 100 Years."

Reportedly, Fish came to visit Columbia County's jail and her jaw hit the floor. "Do you know what you have here?" she exclaimed. She told the members of the department that the jail cells, manufactured by Pauly Bros. Jail Manufacturing Company in 1874, were actually purchased used. Before being placed in Dayton's Jail during the construction of the courthouse in 1885 or 1886, the cells had spent some time on a Navy ship. Fish reportedly said only one other set of jail cells like this were on the West Coast - in a museum in California.

Upon learning what a brig was, I decided to call up Harriet U. Fish. She would have the most information for me on this topic. I did a quick Zabasearch online and only one Harriet U. Fish resides in Washington. It had to be her. I phoned Ms. Fish and while she happily answered the phone, her gravelly voice not only did not really understand who I am, but when asked about jail cells, she simply had no idea what I was talking about. With a quick check, the online records said Ms. Fish was about 96 years old. She had good reason not to remember a bunch of information about jail cells that were 125-years-old. P.J. Pauly

Next, I decided to look up some information about the jail cell manufacturer. I hoped to get some good leads from this.

I learned that P.J. Pauley was a German- American known for creating the perfect jail, according to the "Nemaha County Jail and Sheriff's Residence Historical Structure Report" from December 2006. The counties of emerging territories in the West needed a place to house prisoners in the 1800s. Pauly was a mechanic and blacksmith and founded his jail building company in 1856 in St. Louis, Mo. Pauly's great-great grandsons are actually still running the family business today!

Pauly was best known for pioneering the doubleribbed bar and "tool-resisting steel." His jail cells had special plumbing fixtures that could never be clogged and fancy detention security windows allowed prisoners a little light.

Today, the company is the "oldest professional correctional facilities contractor in the U.S.," according the Nemaha's report. The company had also built mobile jails and jails in the late 1800s in Missouri, Texas, Wyoming and Oregon. Off To The (First) Library

Now, there's nothing I like better than sitting in a quiet library poring over musty old books and yellowed newspapers. In my other life I may have been a reference librarian.

After I struck out with Harriet Fish and learned a little about Mr. Pauly, I decided to leave the office and look through some books at the Dayton Public Library. The librarians were happy to help me as soon as I walked through the door. I soon had lots of information about the building of the courthouse and early Dayton life.

I learned the courthouse was designed by W.H. Burrows and the brick and cement work was done by A.J. Dexter. It was opened and ready for use in 1887. The courthouse was built on eight lots originally donated by the town's proprietor, Jesse N. Day. Before the courthouse was built, on that spot was a wooden-frame, cheap, little jail.

According to "Historical Significance of Columbia County and Washington's Oldest Courthouse" by Vernon Marll, a new courthouse was commissioned through a vote by the population. The residents voted down a cheaper courthouse, and decided the second time around they wanted to build a more expensive $40,000 courthouse. According to Marll, the infamous murder of a railroad agent named Eli H. Cummins in 1883 and the trials following proved the need for a courthouse and new jail. Court was held in rented rooms in town that were not suitable.

A Union- Bulletin news story about the courthouse written in August 1971 said when the Columbia County jail was completed, it housed both men and women prisoners who would help pack in fuel to keep the wood-burning stoves found throughout the courthouse going.

"Prisoners dragging their balls and chains would clear the mud off the streets and saw and stack the wood, and fill the many courthouse wood boxes," according to the Union- Bulletin article.

It was at the Dayton library when I learned about some of the first outlaws of Dayton. Reportedly, the community had one of the largest gangs of cattle rushers in Walla Walla County. The leader was George Young who set up a slaughterhouse on Patit Creek. His operatives rushed cattle in Columbia, Garfield and Asotin counties and the stolen meat was sold at his retail store. He was eventually captured and served time in Columbia County, according to "Outlaw Tales of Washington," by Elizabeth Gibson.

The only other piece of information I learned about the jail cells was that there were four originally built by Pauly that were 5.5 by 7 feet. I learned nothing about their origin before they came to Dayton. But, because they are imprinted with the date of 1874, we know they were purchased used and placed in the jail in 1885 or 1886. Learning About The Navy

Back at the office, I still had a ton of questions. I started googling Pauly Jail Company and I learned one can purchase an antique Pauly jail cell steel key for $40 on eBay. Not super helpful, but interesting. I then tried to research another way. What was the Navy doing in 1874 that it needed jail cells aboard ships?

This was long after the Civil War in 1865, and before the Spanish-American War in 1898. Why would the Navy commission jail cells from Pauly in 1874, put them in a ship, and take them out only to be sold to Dayton in 1885 or 1886? None of this makes sense to me. Doubt

I only had two working days left before I was to publish my piece and I literally had no satisfactory story, paper trail or even glimmer of information connecting the jail cells in Dayton to a Navy ship. I decided to take a drive out to see Faye Rainwater, who helped start the Dayton Historical Society that runs the Historic Depot. She came very highly recommended and I admit I absolutely invited myself over to her home. She seemed to have even more information than the library did.

Through a source called "Columbia County Courthouse History as Reported in Dayton Newspapers," by Judilyn M. Jones, she confirmed that the four jail cells were purchased from P.J. Pauly for $3,700. The steel cells were welded together in place and could hold two prisoners, or four in an emergency.

"The ingenious contrivance is so arranged that the cell doors can be opened and closed by a lever operated from the outside," Jones quoted from one newspaper.

Each jail cell had a wash sink, closet and hammock. There was also a kitchen in the jail and a sewer pipe that led into a sink hole outside the grounds. Light came through 18 windows guarded with iron bars and hung with weights and pulleys. The jail was ready for occupancy by Feb. 1, 1886, according to Jones.

It was ordered by the county commissioners that the old wooden-frame jail was to be removed from the courthouse grounds on or before the 10th of April, 1887. Later on in 1893, the Nilsson Bros. built a new corridor in that jail for $493.37. In July 1911, new cement floors were laid in the corridors and cells of the county jail.

According to another source in Rainwater's collection, "Columbia: The Magazine of the Northwest" from winter 1993/94, despite the occasional visiting cutthroat, "Dayton had essentially been a law-abiding town." But, some claimed the James Boys, Jesse and Frank, had wagered their $20 gold pieces in a local den called Sparks' Salon.

In 1890, one bored prisoner in Dayton's jail began a newspaper called "Calaboose Daily News." The lead story: "We saw a fly on the wall this morning, but he got lonesome and died. Poor fellow, we sympathize with you," the newspaper read.

But Rainwater put a new idea in my head. I told her I was having a lot of trouble piecing it all together. And without a paper trail, I was finding it hard to prove those jail cells actually came from a ship.

Rainwater simply replied that she never thought they did. And for the first time, I began to wonder if this local legend was true. A Call To Pauly

Fraught with doubt and a looming deadline, I called the Pauly Jail Manufacturing Company in St. Louis. The offi ce manager, Marissa Ashabranner, said the company certainly did make jail cells for Navy ships. Score! However, because of a horrible fire in the 1970s, they only have a list of jobs by state. The list only included jail cells in actual jails. If the jail cells were made for jail wagons or boats, she said they simply did not have the information any longer.

She sent me the list for Washington State and it was recorded that Pauly cells are in Dayton, Wash., but, no other information. No dates, no "purchased-used" status or anything. Fail.

I had been working on the piece for a week and while I had learned a lot, I was nowhere near the product I dreamed of serving up to you readers. I was so lucky the boss had written a long feature to fill the week's edition, so I could work on my jail cell story another week. A reprieve, but only for one week. That feeling of doubt came over me once again. "Tribal Knowledge"

Tim Quigg, the supervisor for Columbia County Public Safety Communications Center was with Fish in the 1980s when she stopped by and told the department about how special the jail cells are.

" They opened the door and her jaw hit the floor," he remembered. "But, these are just stories I've heard. It's tribal knowledge."

He was a dispatcher back then, but he remembers Fish stating there was only one other set of jail cells like Dayton's on the West Coast.

With this bit of information, I had phoned and emailed all jail museums in California asking if their cells were from a ship. The jail museum in Truckee, Calif., emailed me a photo of their jail cells. They knew the cells were manufactured on site, but they had once been told the steel doors looked like they came from a ship. I never heard from any other museums.

I told Quigg that two days before our discussion, I had pored over history books and even the Columbia County Commissioner's minutes from 1884 to 1887 and found nothing but the price of the cells.

Quigg informed me that there was a large fire in the courthouse in the 1920s or 1930s and many records were burned in it. The documents I was searching for likely burned in this fire. I wonder if that is also why I can't locate a single photo of the courthouse's construction?

This for me, meant something huge. There was not going to be a paper trail with the county or the Pauly Company because the records had burned in fires. Two doors closed. A Twist In The Story

It was recommended that I speak with Jan Crohnkite who was previously the library manager for Waitsburg's Weller Public Library. I called her and part of me wishes I hadn't because I'm only more confused.

Crohnkite said she has been telling people for 30 years that there is a jail under the public library. The building was first a bank, and then City Hall around the turn of the 20th Century. And, below all of the books, Crohnkite said, are two jail cells from the brig of a ship. She said there may even be cells just like them in Starbuck. She had heard that rumor.

The funny thing is, Crohnkite did not know Dayton's jail cells were also rumored to be from the brig of a ship.

The day Harriet U. Fish came through Dayton and said there were only two of that kind on the West Coast all of a sudden is comical - there may be another set 10 minutes down the road in Waitsburg! But of course, City Hall moved to its current spot in the 1970s, before Fish came by in the 1980s.

Upon hearing this information, I grabbed my camera bag and decided I had to somehow get into the basement of the library to see for myself. I had seen photos on Columbia County's website of what their cells look like, so I knew what I was looking for.

Ci ty Manager Randy Hinchliffe helped me break into the back of the library. Neither of us was dressed for this dusty adventure and we climbed over piping and through cobwebs.

Sure enough, despite a lack of lighting, there was the big steel tube with two cell doors. Because of the rounded top of the tube, it was easy to tell the cells were not part of the original building. And they certainly looked as though they came from a ship. Hinchliffe and I hunted all over (by the light of his cell phone) for an imprint like Dayton's listing Pauly as the manufacturer. But, we didn't find one. I was lost and confused and ready to throw my hands up in defeat. Now we have two sets of jail cells that look like they could be from a ship and no documentation to prove it. Fish's Book

I had one source to consult that I hoped would give me some documentation - Fish's book, "Law Enforcement in Washington State - The First 100 Years." The only copy nearby was at Walla Walla Community College, so off I went.

I was very disappointed. The book did not include information about Dayton's cells or where they came from. But, I did look at many photos of jails from around the state. The cells I saw looked more like cage fencing than our solid steel doors and walls in Dayton and Waitsburg. At least I know our cells aren't the norm.

With no luck at the college library, I headed to the Walla Walla Public Library. Their reference librarian listened to my sad tale of exhausted resources and burned records and simply told me "You're going to have to call the Navy."

The Navy would be the only other entity who would have records about our jail cells. Mare Island

I spoke with Karen France at the U.S. Navy Museum. She said I would need to go through the National Archives to find the Navy procurement records from that time period. I asked her why the jail cells would have been commissioned in 1874 when the country was not at war? She said after the Civil War, the Navy downsized considerably. She did not know why the Navy would need new jail cells for ships.

But, the oldest shipyard on the West Coast, Mare Island, in the city of Vallejo, Calif., may have some information. If those cells came from ships, they may have come from Mare Island because no other Navy shipyards existed yet on the West Coast.

A little more Internet searching, and yes! Mare Island was building and renovating ships in the late 1800s. Before the Spanish-American War, the Navy dispatched warships to address American Indian uprisings in the Pacific Northwest and to South America when political instability threatened the movement of American goods. The Navy also sent ships to the Caribbean to protect trade routes.

I called Mare Island and a kind man named Ken told me in 1860 Marines came to the West Coast and would have had brigs to hold prisoners.

He told me all of his records of what ships may have been docked at Mare Island in the 1870s and 1880s were sent East to be digitized or they were in the National Archives. The procurement lists? Those would be there too.

He told me to submit an information request, but said the researchers would probably ask me to come down and look for myself. I emailed the researchers and have yet to hear anything about my response.

While writing this story, I zoomed in on the imprint on Dayton's cells and I had another terrifying thought. The date of the imprint says "Ptd. Sept. 13, 1874." What if this date is simply the patent date and not the date they were constructed originally? How else can we explain the special steel design? Another Dead End?

It is 6 p.m. Tuesday evening and I'm putting the finishing touches on the paper. I receive an email from Robert Glass, an archivist in the national archives. Here's what he has to say about my request for information on ships at Mare Island and whether parts were sold used:

" I'm afraid yours may be an impossible question to answer. Most 19th-century records from Mare Island are in the form of bound letter-books with titles such as "Letters Sent to the Bureau of Yards and Docks" or "Letters Received from the Bureau of Navigation." Within each series of letter-books the documents are usually arranged chronologically, but there are frequent gaps, and there is little indexing by subject matter. Without more information, it would take considerable research to find relevant records, or to determine whether relevant records might be part of our holdings.

For what it is worth, in the limited opportunities I have had to examine these records in detail, I have found few nineteenth-century records from Mare Island relating to the sale of moveable property, and nothing relating to the sale of moveable property to parties outside of California." This Story Needs An Ending

So for me, this is where this story ends. I would like to have found all of the answers and tied it up beautifully in a bow for you, readers. But, this seemingly simple story has taken on a life of its own. I think my boss is a reasonable person, but I doubt he'll pay for me to go down to San Bruno, Calif., to the National Archives to look up the information I need. I do have to be in Waitsburg, writing stories to fill the paper each week for you.

Unfortunately, until it can be proven, the fact that Dayton and Waitsburg's jail cells rests with someone else out there. A small part of me is sad to think there may not be any records at all and we'll never know.

If you are interested in taking on this task, please let me know. I know our community would love to knowhow this story ends. I know I do.