Jared Enoch Wade (1823-1870): California Powder Plant Explosion

  

AI Generated Image: Jared Enoch Wade

A Connecticut Man Who Made a Bang in California
(The Story of Jared Wade, 1830-1870)

If you follow the sound of progress in the 1870's California, you'll eventually find the boom coming from the banks of the San Lorenzo River.  That's where the California Powder Works turned peaceful forest air into black powder smoke--and where a Connecticut born laborer named Jared Wade, my 3x great grandfather met his untimely fate in one particularly thunderous April day. 

Jared, age forty, had come a long way from his New England roots being born in New Lyme, Connecticut.  He worked as a mariner and seaman in Connecticut before migrating to New York where the birth of his daughter Marion Wade and son Richard Beebe Wade took place. However, like many skilled workers of his time he likely followed opportunity westward, trading his work in New York for the booming industry in California ---literally booming---as it turned out.   He was one of hundreds who kept the Powder Works running, mixing, grinding, and glazing gunpowder for mining and railroads across the Pacific Coast.  

But one spring day in 1870, a grinding mill at the Powder Works exploded without warning.  The blast could be heard for miles around Santa Cruz.  When the smoke cleared, three men were gone in an instant--  Jared Wade, William Gilkey, of Pennsylvania, and John Thomas of Ireland--each of them husbands, workers, and unwitting martyrs of the age of industrial advancement.  Their deaths were recorded in the careful hand of a lens taker  as "Explosion at Powder Works---Instant"  The name John E. Wade is later corrected to reflect Jared Wade, sometimes spelled Waide or Waid. 

Newspapers.com Santa Cruz Weekly Sentinel, March 12, 1870 pg 2 

 The factory was rebuilt within weeks, business carried on, and the story of these men faded into the background hum of history.  Yet, in one small like of the 1870 Mortality Schedule (1), Jared's story survives, a quiet reminder that behind every census page lies a life, a family and sometimes a very loud ending.  

The California Powder Works --AKA "Boom Town on the River" 
It was nestled along the San Lorenzo River just north of Santa Cruz.  The California Powder Works was established in 1861 to supply gunpowder to the booming mining and railroad industries of the West.  Before its construction, every barrel of blasting powder had to be shipped around Cape Hope from the East Coast--a slow and dangerous trip.  So California built is own plant.  
At is peak, California Powder Works had more than a dozen small mills and "houses" each separated by earthen berms (and a good deal of wishful thinking) to prevent one explosion from setting off the next.  Despite those precautions, the works earned a reputation for occasional fireworks.  The April 1870 explosion as recorded here and additional explosions, 1879, 1880, 1887, 1892 and one in 1898 which was a massive explosion killing thirteen men and shattering windows all the way into town.  

Local lore says Santa Cruz residents could always tell a "Powder Works Day" --the air smelled fairly of sulfur, and the hills echoed with testing booms. 

By the early 1900's, safer methods and new regulations made the plant obsolete and the site was eventually converted in the Paradise Park Masonic Club, a quiet residential community.  But the ghosts of the old Powder Works---and a few brave men like Jared Wade---still linger in the records, where every boom is reduced to a single handwritten line. (2)

Family Note: Life Beside the River

Ellen (Mason) Wade, my 3x great-grandmother's role as a housekeeper at the California Powder Works placed her at the heart of the daily life in the company village.  Workers' families lived in neat, white-washed cottages along the river, with gardens, a company store, and a small school for the children--including the school Marion (Wade) Squires, my 2 x great-grandmother, then only nine years old would have attended. 

Per the 1870 census report Ellen Wade is now a widow and works as a boarding housekeeper.  She has four children that she is raising alone: William H - 13 y/o, Marion - 9 y/o, Richard - 5 y/o and Sarah - 1 y/o.  The two older kids, William and Marion are definitely old enough to carry the scar of this horrific time in their lives.  It is not know if Marion's exposure to this tragedy at such a young age, along with the death of her son John Francis, topped off with the desertion of her husband William Clayton all lead to her successful suicide at 48 years old. 

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Citations:

 (1) "Schedule 3-Persons Who Died during the year ending June 1, 1870", Santa Cruz County,  California, p. 917, entries for Jared Wade, William Gilkey, and John Thomas; citing NARA  microfilm publication T655, roll 7, U.S. Federal Mortality Schedules, 1850-1880.

 (2) Information about the California Powder Works and its bridge was drawn from the National  Register of Historic Places "California Powder Works Bridge" (Santa Cruz Sentinel Publishers, (1983). pp. 112-116

Marion (Wade) Squires (1861-1910) Suicide

AI Generated Photo Marion (Wade) Squires

Marion Wade (1861–1910): The Powder Plant Daughter, A Nurse Who Lives A Life One Tragedy After Another.

If ever there was a woman whose life stitched together tragedy, perseverance, and quiet strength, it was Marion Wade, my second great-grandmother. Her story begins in New York, where she was born in 1861 to Jared Enoch Wade (1823–1870) and Ellen Mason (1828–1897)—a young family with 5 siblings together in a rapidly changing America. She is the middle child who are: William Henry (1857-1887)Martha Ellen (1857-1857) Marion (1861-1910), Richard Beebe (1866-1930) and Sarah L (1869-unk). The Civil War had barely ended, and the nation was still finding its footing. For the Wades, that footing would soon shift them back to east coast where Marion’s parents, Jared Enoch Wade and Ellen Mason, both were born and married.   Her father being a mariner and seaman is probably what took the family to New York and subsequently to Santa Cruz for work.  Eventually after tragedy struck, the family found its way back to Connecticut. 

From Connecticut to New York to Santa Cruz

Sometime before 1870, Jared and Ellen packed up their family and headed west to Santa Cruz, California from New York—a booming coastal town that was as full of opportunity as it was of danger. Jared found work at the California Powder Works, an industrial hub manufacturing black powder for mining and construction. It was a perilous job, and fate would deal the Wade family a devastating blow.

In  March of 1870, a massive explosion at the Powder Works shattered the quiet of the San Lorenzo Valley. Jared Enoch Wade was among those killed—leaving Ellen a widow and nine-year-old Marion and her siblings fatherless. The tragedy was one that would ripple through generations. Marion, barely a child, suddenly found herself in a house forever changed by grief.

1870 United States Federal Census: Santa Cruz, California

Marriage, Motherhood, and New England Roots

About 1877, at just sixteen or seventeen, Marion married William Clayton Squires, a man from Greenport, New York. The couple eventually settled in New London, Connecticut, a bustling whaling port that must have felt a world away from the redwoods of Santa Cruz.

Together, Marion and William had five children, though by 1900, only three were living, as noted in the census. Infant mortality was heartbreakingly common then, but each loss would have left its mark on a mother’s heart.

Family records show that the Squires household was often filled with motion—children coming and going, boarders staying, and William’s work keeping him busy. But by the turn of the century, cracks in the marriage had begun to show. Sometime near her 1910 death, William divorced Marion and returned to New York, leaving her alone in Connecticut to navigate life in Connecticut with her sons. 

Loss upon Loss

The years that followed were not kind. Her son, John Francis Squires (1877-1907), the pride of her life—a hardworking man whose tragic death in 1907 made the papers. He was killed in a train accident, and the news must have pierced Marion’s already fragile spirit. Three years later, in 1910, Marion took her own life.

It’s a stark and sorrowful ending to a life that began with promise, adventure, and resilience. The woman who had crossed a continent as a child, who survived industrial disaster, widowhood, and heartbreak, had finally faced more grief than she could bear.

The Lost Husband and the Lingering Questions

Marion’s ex-husband, William C. Squires (my second great grandfather), remains an elusive figure after their separation. His paper trail fades after his return to New York—perhaps he remarried, perhaps he lived quietly, or perhaps, as often happened, he simply disappeared into the folds of another census record waiting to be rediscovered. It is possible this is he who is found boarding a room in New York as a widow months after the death of his wife. 

Possible Census sheet for William Clayton Squires

1910 Unites States Federal Census, New York

Details of The Tragic Ending of Her Own Life

News articles detailing Marion Wades suicide.  I can't image a son finding his mother.  It is also a wonder how she must have lived her life after her husband deserted her.  The question is did he desert her because of her illness or did her illness and suicidal thoughts come after he left.  Only she knows. 

Even though these articles are difficult to read just in principle, let alone the quality of the stories.  The idea is not lost.  All articles are from Newspapers.com 

And that's a wrap, another thread in the quilt of our family story....

Until next time and another tragic story : Jared Enoch Wade

John Francis Squires (1877-1907) A Daughter Never Meets Her Father

AI Generated Image: John Francis Squires

It was a hot August afternoon in 1907 when brakeman John F. Squires climbed between two freight cars in New Haven, Connecticut — doing the kind of dangerous work that kept America moving. Within moments, one misstep would cost him his life and leave behind a wife expecting their fourth child. More than a century later, his great-granddaughter uncovers the coroner’s report that tells his story in heartbreaking detail.

Deceased was brought to the New Haven Hospital in the police ambulance at 2:30 pm  August 11, 1907; died at 7:15 this same afternoon. There was a crush of the right thigh with a bruise of the back. His thigh was amputated but he died from the shock of his injuries. Deceased was extra brakeman on extra freight of the N.Y., N.H. -R.R. Co. which stood on two tracks next to the (unreadable) siding at Cedar Hill yards, New Haven. Three cars were on one track and the remainder of the cars were on another track. The three cars mentioned were being shifted to the track where the others were stood. After setting the switch for this purpose and giving the signal to back the three cars to the rest of the train, deceased ran ahead of these cars, slipped and fell, the wheels of one car passing over his leg. This occurred between one and two P.M., August 11, 1907.

I am satisfied that the said death was not caused by the criminal act, omission, or carelessness of any other person or persons, and that an inquest is unnecessary. In accordance with the statute I have delivered the body of said deceased to his friends for burial.

Dated at New Haven, Conn., this 14th day of August, A.D. 1907.
Signed: Eli Mix, Medical Examiner—Coroner.[1]

 

News articles tell of the John's accident and that he was married and had 5 children.  Mary, his wife, had several children prior to marrying John.  No matter, he was the father of all of them.  

Heartbreakingly, two months later, in October 1907, John’s wife gives birth to their fourth child, Ruth Virginia Squires (1908-1947) — my grandmother. Ruth never met her father, but his story lived on through the memories and whispers that stitched our family’s generations together, like threads in an unfinished quilt.  

John Francis Squires married Mary (nee Warner) Lawrence in 1900.  This was his first marriage and her 3rd even though she claimed it was her 2nd.  She was several years older than John.

Marriage Cert in private collection Barbara Fueston Grandon

  

For years, John F. Squires was just a name on a death certificate. But now, through a single page of a coroner’s report, we can see the man behind the ink — a hardworking brakeman, a husband, a father of four, and the great-grandfather whose story was nearly lost to time. Sometimes genealogy gives us more than names and dates — it gives us back our people.

The loss of John F. Squires in 1907 was only a small part of a heartbreaking chapter in the Squires family. Grief would echo through their lives in ways no one could have foreseen — and yet, somehow, threads of love and endurance prevailed.

He was originally "In Vault" at Cedar Grove for a short time.  He died on Aug 11, 1907.  Per Olivia at Cedar Grove he was "moved to Waterford on Aug 13, 1907".  There are no other notes for him.  Moved to Waterford means that he was buried at Jordan Cemetery which is where at least 30 family members are buried.  

And that's a wrap!

           Up next: “The Weight They Carried: The Squires Family After the Fall.”  

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[1] Family Search, “Connecticut County Coroner's Records 1833-1934,” database (www.familysearch.org : accessed 10 March 2023), entry for John F Squires, 11 Aug 1907; citing Coroner Report, Connecticut.