Folks:
By now we all know the story of the Brooksbrae Brick Company and the Wheatland Manufacturing Company works in Pasadena, Ocean County, but what about the human toll associated with the operations and the town of Pasadena? Henry Beck tells the story, perhaps apocryphal, of Bill and Peggy Clevenger, residents of Pasadena. To quote Father Beck,
There is, of course, the story of Peggy Clevenger and her husband, Bill. They told us there that Bill, who died in 1872, lived what was said to be a far from sanctimonious life in and about old Pasadena. Before dying, he told Peggy that if he found conditions of the next world as they had been described to him, strange things would soon happen close to home.
Bill assured Peggy that if his new stamping ground was as hot as he had been led to believe, he would cause the water of an open well near their house to boil day and night. The legend recount that on the night after Bill passed on, the water in the well began to bubble and steam, sure enough.
The well no longer exists. Its walls long ago caved in and the place where it once was has been forgotten. One old resident of Pasadena was careful to emphasize the fact that the story was not all fable. Henry Webb swore to us that he saw the well. Henry said it continued to boil, now and then, until its walls crumbled.
Peggy is well remembered, too. Despite the fact that she lived back in the pines, far beyond the Plains, she was a fairly wealthy woman. Her mistake was in an unholy joy with which she showed all who plunged through to the little hamlet a stocking filled with gold which soon became the envy of the whole community.
One dark and chilly night, not long after Bill’s death, Peggy’s house, a ramshackle structure, burned to the ground, the old woman dying horribly in the flames. Though the ruins revealed what had been her body, no trace was ever found of the hoarded money and it was generally conceded, for many years, that Peggy had been robbed, murdered, and burned to conceal the crime.
Then there is the true story of Jonas Tomaszewski, and his wife Katherine, the Polish émigré watchman of the Brooksbrae Brick Company works. On the night of 13 September 1915, the Tomaszewskis had retired for the evening, unaware of a blockage in their dwelling’s chimney. During the night the chimney erupted into flames and consumed the house with the couple perishing in the flames. A cranberry bog worker discovered the burned house and charred bodies the following morning. Although the police ruled the deaths accidental, local residents felt the couple had lost their lives to a robber who relieved them of their money and destroyed the house to cover the deed. A story that sounds remarkably similar to Beck’s Clevenger story and, perhaps, this true account served as the basis for his fable.
Finally, there is the true tale of Italian émigré Gildo Plazziano, the caretaker of the Brookbrae plant who took over after Tomaszewski’s death. A local newspaper, dated October 17, 1918, provides an account of his demise along with that of Harriet Chattin, a 12-year-old local girl that Gildo apparently raped. Again, his dwelling burned to the ground with the bodies inside. Here is the story as written in the newspaper:
Reports of a supposed murder and suicide at Pasadena, between Chatsworth and Whitings, were brought back last week by deer-hunters who were locating stands for the opening of the season today. The tragedy occurred on Thursday at Brooks Brae brick manufacturing plant at Pasadena, in Ocean county, a short distance over the Burlington county line. The supposed murderer and suicide was Gildo Plazziano, a watchman at the brick plant, and his victim was Harriet, the 12-year-old daughter of Samuel Chattin, living nearby. Nothing was known of the crime until a small shack in which Plazziano lived was discovered to be on fire. The girl's father and brother hastened to the scene and were in time to see the bodies of the man and the girl lying on a cot in the bedroom, but on account of the heat they were unable to rescue them from the flames and they were so badly charred when recovered that it was impossible to determine the cause of death. The supposition is that the man had attacked the child and then, realizing the enormity of his crime, had killed her, set fire to the shack and then committed suicide. Plazziano was indicted three years ago for selling liquor without a license in the building in which the tragedy occurred.
So, after reading these true and fabled accounts of death by unnatural causes, here is my question for you all: Does Pasadena qualifies as the most melancholy place in the Pines?
Best regards,
Jerseyman
By now we all know the story of the Brooksbrae Brick Company and the Wheatland Manufacturing Company works in Pasadena, Ocean County, but what about the human toll associated with the operations and the town of Pasadena? Henry Beck tells the story, perhaps apocryphal, of Bill and Peggy Clevenger, residents of Pasadena. To quote Father Beck,
There is, of course, the story of Peggy Clevenger and her husband, Bill. They told us there that Bill, who died in 1872, lived what was said to be a far from sanctimonious life in and about old Pasadena. Before dying, he told Peggy that if he found conditions of the next world as they had been described to him, strange things would soon happen close to home.
Bill assured Peggy that if his new stamping ground was as hot as he had been led to believe, he would cause the water of an open well near their house to boil day and night. The legend recount that on the night after Bill passed on, the water in the well began to bubble and steam, sure enough.
The well no longer exists. Its walls long ago caved in and the place where it once was has been forgotten. One old resident of Pasadena was careful to emphasize the fact that the story was not all fable. Henry Webb swore to us that he saw the well. Henry said it continued to boil, now and then, until its walls crumbled.
Peggy is well remembered, too. Despite the fact that she lived back in the pines, far beyond the Plains, she was a fairly wealthy woman. Her mistake was in an unholy joy with which she showed all who plunged through to the little hamlet a stocking filled with gold which soon became the envy of the whole community.
One dark and chilly night, not long after Bill’s death, Peggy’s house, a ramshackle structure, burned to the ground, the old woman dying horribly in the flames. Though the ruins revealed what had been her body, no trace was ever found of the hoarded money and it was generally conceded, for many years, that Peggy had been robbed, murdered, and burned to conceal the crime.
Then there is the true story of Jonas Tomaszewski, and his wife Katherine, the Polish émigré watchman of the Brooksbrae Brick Company works. On the night of 13 September 1915, the Tomaszewskis had retired for the evening, unaware of a blockage in their dwelling’s chimney. During the night the chimney erupted into flames and consumed the house with the couple perishing in the flames. A cranberry bog worker discovered the burned house and charred bodies the following morning. Although the police ruled the deaths accidental, local residents felt the couple had lost their lives to a robber who relieved them of their money and destroyed the house to cover the deed. A story that sounds remarkably similar to Beck’s Clevenger story and, perhaps, this true account served as the basis for his fable.
Finally, there is the true tale of Italian émigré Gildo Plazziano, the caretaker of the Brookbrae plant who took over after Tomaszewski’s death. A local newspaper, dated October 17, 1918, provides an account of his demise along with that of Harriet Chattin, a 12-year-old local girl that Gildo apparently raped. Again, his dwelling burned to the ground with the bodies inside. Here is the story as written in the newspaper:
Reports of a supposed murder and suicide at Pasadena, between Chatsworth and Whitings, were brought back last week by deer-hunters who were locating stands for the opening of the season today. The tragedy occurred on Thursday at Brooks Brae brick manufacturing plant at Pasadena, in Ocean county, a short distance over the Burlington county line. The supposed murderer and suicide was Gildo Plazziano, a watchman at the brick plant, and his victim was Harriet, the 12-year-old daughter of Samuel Chattin, living nearby. Nothing was known of the crime until a small shack in which Plazziano lived was discovered to be on fire. The girl's father and brother hastened to the scene and were in time to see the bodies of the man and the girl lying on a cot in the bedroom, but on account of the heat they were unable to rescue them from the flames and they were so badly charred when recovered that it was impossible to determine the cause of death. The supposition is that the man had attacked the child and then, realizing the enormity of his crime, had killed her, set fire to the shack and then committed suicide. Plazziano was indicted three years ago for selling liquor without a license in the building in which the tragedy occurred.
So, after reading these true and fabled accounts of death by unnatural causes, here is my question for you all: Does Pasadena qualifies as the most melancholy place in the Pines?
Best regards,
Jerseyman
