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The Next Page: 'Public Record'
Pittsburgh in the late 1800s was a strange and dangerous place. A new art project by Justin Hopper creates poetry out of our forebears' lives, and puts it in the places where their dastardly deeds went down.
Sunday, July 11, 2010

When he died at the age of 35, Andrew Tierney had lived in Pittsburgh for only two years. Michael Gill -- a fellow immigrant from Ireland -- ended Tierney's life with three cuts of a knife outside Snyder's Tavern, Downtown. They had fought over a game of cards and Gill's blade had pierced Tierney's liver. That night, Tierney walked home. Two days later, he died.

Andrew Tierney was mortally wounded on Aug. 28, 1869, and really, that's all we know of him. All we have are a few brief reports in the Pittsburgh Gazette, and a place: Penn Avenue near First Street, the location of Snyder's Tavern. You won't recognize the address -- it hasn't existed for decades. But you've been to the spot. It's now Point State Park, just a few yards east of the fountain, once home to dives and tenements where even the passers-by spoke native Irish and thought little of a street-corner stabbing.

This was the way of late 19th-century Pittsburgh. It was a city rumbling with revolutions both industrial and social, and a lot of folks got lost in the shuffle, chewed up and spat out by history. It's these people who are the central characters -- the heroes, heroines, villains and bystanders -- of Public Record.

Public Record is a multimedia art project that haunts Pittsburgh with the people, places and language of our city's forebears:

• It's a book of documentary poems written with text sampled from 19th-century Pittsburgh crime reports -- some of those poems, complete with references to the news stories they originate from, appear on this page.

• It is a set of recordings of those poems, read by local artists and actors.

• And it is a cell-phone-based system for experiencing those recordings in the locations where the events actually happened.

Pittsburgh has a complex relationship with its own history -- it's both a source of power and an emotional struggle. Public Record uses poetry as a kind of historical reckoning. By exploring the city through the lives of people nearly forgotten -- people for whom an act of transgression resulted in their only blip on history's radar -- maybe we can build new myths about Pittsburgh.

Maybe we'll understand that, in a tiny way, Andrew Tierney and thousands like him are part of why we are who we are.

Public Record launches Friday with a gallery show at 937 Liberty Ave. as part of the Pittsburgh Cultural Trust's Summer Gallery Crawl (5:30-9 p.m.). The show includes the launch of the audio poetry walking tour -- which works either as an iPhone application or as text-message-triggered audio on any cell phone -- as well as an in-gallery version and original artwork by a group of Pittsburgh artists inspired by Public Record poems. (New website here.)




'Devil a Knife I Had'

The Point Homicide, Aug. 28, 1869

A SERIOUS CUTTING AFFRAY

Jury empaneled to inquire into the cause, and after what manner, Andrew Tierney came to his death.

Snyder's Tavern, Penn Street near First; presently, Point State Park.

I looked on and saw the blood
all over Andrew Tierney's neck.
I then slipped in closer
and saw a knife in Michael Gill's left hand.

He drew his hand away from me,
and that is all I saw of the knife.
Tierney called out,
"Gill, you have killed me. My guts are out!"

A cutting affray of a rather serious character,
And with fatal consequences,
Occurred Saturday night at Snyder's Saloon,
On Penn street, near First, at the Point.

Andrew Tierney and Michael Gill, and two others,
Were in the saloon engaged in a game of cards.
A dispute arose, which ended in a fight:
Shortly afterward, Tierney called out that he had been cut.

Myself and Michael Gill,
John Tierney and Andrew Tierney,
Played a game of forty-fives.
Andrew Tierney dealt.

Gill reneged a card,
And Andrew Tierney told him of it.
Gill said he did not;
Tierney slapped the cards down.

When it was ascertained by the friends of the deceased
that a post mortem examination would be made,
A brother of the deceased swore that doctors should not touch the body.
Police took the brother in charge and confined him in the lockup.

Two cuts were found in the abdomen: One on the right side,
penetrating the liver. It was this that caused death.
Three feet of intestines protruded from the wound.
A third cut had been made in the right ear.

Andrew Tierney said, "You know, Gill, you reneged."
Gill said, "You are a liar, I did not."
"You call me a liar," said Tierney,
and struck Gill in the face.

Snyder put them out after that,
And Gill said to Tierney,
"You will suffer for that lick before you go home."
He spoke it in Irish.

Deceased was thirty-five years of age
and was born in county Galway, Ireland.
He was employed in Anderson & Cook's steel works,
and has been in this city for two years.

I saw the men having a hold of each other:
The large man had a knife in his hand.
I heard Tierney say, "You have let my guts out."
He said it in Irish.

I walked to the man that was cut
And asked him where he was out.
He had his hand holding the wound.
Gill replied: "Devil a knife I had."

I did not see Gill after that.
Tierney walked home.

SOURCES: • Text from "Serious Cutting Affray" and "The Point Homicide," Pittsburgh Gazette, Aug. 30, Sept. 1 and Sept. 2, 1869.




'A Fearful Death -- or, A Ravishing Description of Whitelaw Reid's Toilette'

Coroner's inquest into the death of Andrew Kurtzbaner, June 5, 1872. Corner of Grant Street and Fourth Avenue.

"The market for both crude and refined is stronger,
And the former has still further advanced." -- Pittsburgh Daily Gazette, June 4, 1872

At an early hour yesterday morning
While some night-soil men were engaged
In cleaning the vaults at the St. Nicholas Hotel,
Corner of Grant Street and Fourth Avenue,
One of their number met with a very shocking death.
The unfortunate man, whose name is Andrew Kurtzbaner,
Had descended to the bottom of the pit.
Which is about nine feet.
At this depth, the unfortunate man was seen
To fall over and to remain motionless.

Alexander Aiken,
Undertaker,
No. 166 Fourth Avenue.

Mr. Whitelaw Reid was in the city last week, and attracted universal attention by the beauty of his person and gorgeousness of his apparel. He wore a white silk hat, gloves made to match his pantaloons, and a slender cane with a handle of ivory and gold.

A gentleman who was in the vicinity and saw the excitement,
ran to the place, stripped off his clothing,
and was lowered by ropes into the vault.
Speedy as the work of rescue had been, it was not speedy enough,
and the man was quite dead when brought out.

Coffins of all kinds,
Shrouds, Crape, Gloves,
And every description of Funeral Furnishing Goods furnished.

Mr. Whitelaw Reid wore a magnificent maroon velvet coat, a white satin vest, trimmed with ruffles and point lace, [and] a black necktie. His pantaloons -- a delicate shade of ashes of roses -- were cut in the latest Parisian style, and strapped tightly over patent leather shoes, stitched with yellow silk thread. An immense gold chain ... went twice around his neck and fell gracefully over his snow white shirt bosom, resplendent with three stones of enormous value, namely, an emerald, a diamond cluster and a magnificent ruby. Wherever he passed the air was filled with a sweet fragrance and perfume.

It is supposed that the man was unable to rise
and was so suffocated.
Deceased was about fifty-five years of age.
He resided in the Thirteenth Ward, near Hauch's drug store.
He leaves a wife and six children, in very destitute circumstances.

Agent for Raymond & Co.'s Patent Metallic Burial Cases.
Rooms open day and night.
Hearses and Carriages furnished.

An angelic smile played around his classic mouth, disclosing a set of pearly teeth, his hair was dressed a la Pompadour. Sweet young man, wilst thou not come again?

SOURCES:
• Petroleum Market report, Pittsburgh Daily Gazette, June 4, 1872.
• From "A Fearful Death," Pittsburgh Daily Gazette, June 5, 1872.
• From an ad for Aiken, Undertaker, Pittsburgh Daily Gazette, June 5, 1872.
• From "A Gorgeous Editor: Ravishing Description of Whitelaw Reid's Toilette" (from the Washington Republican), and reprinted in the Pittsburgh Daily Gazette, June 5, 1872.

SOURCES: Text from "Serious Cutting Affray" and "The Point Homicide," Pittsburgh Gazette, Aug. 30, Sept. 1 and Sept. 2, 1869.


'Spirits of Nitre'

The Scandal Case

253 Penn St., between Hancock Street and Hand Street.

(Presently, Penn Avenue between Eighth and Ninth streets).

A charge of a very serious nature
Has been made before Mayor Wilson
Against a gentleman of respectability --
That of an attempted outrage on a married woman.

Mrs. Adelia T. Hays, wife of Dr. Hays
Against Rev. J.M. Smith, a minister,
Charging him with attempting to commit an outrage,
The attempt made at the doctor's office.

James Irwin
Manufacturer of
Sulphuric Ether
Sulphuric Acid

A charge of a serious nature
Has been made before,
Against a gentleman of respectability --
That of attempted outrage.

My husband was in an adjoining room.
When Smith came in, he asked of my husband;
I told Smith the doctors were out;
I was wearing a pair of slippers.

James Irwin
Manufacturer of
Aqua Ammonia
Sweet Spirits of Nitre

A charge of a very serious nature
Against a gentleman of respectability:
Mr. Smith came and looked at my slippers,
and after passing a remark,
leaned his face against my head
and caught me around the body;
the doctor came in from an adjoining room
and told Smith he must answer for his actions.

James Irwin
Manufacturer of
Muriatic Acid
Nitric Acid

A charge of a serious nature
A gentleman of respectability:
He had made previous approaches to me,
Once on the 14th of January.
At that time he came to see the doctor
And while looking at the gas fixtures
he caught with both hands from behind me;
I screamed and ran out.

James Irwin
Manufacturer of
Hoffman's Anodyne
Fowler's Solution



Charge: serious.
Gentleman: respectable.
I knew the doctor was in the room;
Wanted Smith to be caught in the act.
Of each outrage, I had informed my husband
And the doctor said, you must answer for your action;
Smith then went out, trembling like an aspen;
he asked, in a tremulous voice, what he had done.

SOURCES:
• "City Affairs," and "The Scandal Case," Daily Pittsburgh Gazette, Feb. 11 and 13, 1860.
• Ad for John Irwin & Sons, 57 Water Street, Daily Pittsburgh Gazette, Feb. 11, 1860.


Justin Hopper is a writer living in Shadyside (justinhopper.wordpress.com). He created Public Record as old and new media artist in residence with Deeplocal and Encyclopedia Destructica. This project is supported in part by a Seed Award from The Sprout Fund.

The Next Page is different every week: John Allison, THENEXTPAGE@POST-GAZETTE.COM, 412-263-1915


First published on July 11, 2010 at 12:00 am