The Long Night

[First, a quick update on our last entry. The man who was swept over Niagara, yet lived to be rescued, is said to be continuing his recovery. His identity, at the request of family members, has been kept out of all reports. No one has actually said so, but it's believed that he was a person drawn to the mighty River to end his life. Such stories are not the focus of these pages, and so, unless some unusual circumstances come to light concerning his situation, we will write no more of him.]

Our last few posts have looked at adventurers who challenged Niagara and won. But the panorama that is the River's history has many more points of interest than the stunters. This entry looks at a man of the 19th-Century, and the night he spent in the churning waters, inches from death.

Anyone who lives near water, especially fast-moving water, knows that the flow carries many things. Gravel and soil are pulled up from the bottom, and carried along the water's course. Such build-ups are periodically dredged by special barges, called scows [one such of the 19th-Century is pictured above]. The gravel is frequently salvaged, and used in construction. Dredging is thus a profitable, if dangerous, activity, and continues to this day.

But let us turn to a July day in 1853. Three men are working in a dredging scow, anchored east of Goat Island, in the channel directly above the American Falls. About midday, the three decided to break for lunch, or perhaps a scupper of cold beer [after all, these were hard-working men]. The only way for the men to return to shore was by a small rowboat. As their journey began, the three soon realized that the River's current was much stronger than they had expected. One of their oars snapped like a twig. The small boat was out of control, heading for the American Channel, and certain death awaited at the Falls! Suddenly the small rowboat capsized, sending two of the men [whose names are lost to us] to their deaths. Somehow the third, Samuel Avery, saw some tree roots a few yards from the brink. More amazingly, he was able to struggle against the current, and pull himself to a secure grasp. The waters of Niagara continued to pound him as he held on desperately. Avery began to scream for help. But the water was so loud that no one on shore could hear him, and his position in the water made him invisible to the tourists on shore. He secured himself as best he could, and waited.

A question for you, the reader; how long have you waited for something before despair began to set in? How long have circumstances kept you adrift on the edge of certain destruction, before help came to you? Avery knew his doom was imminent; he had just watched his fellow workers plummet over the brink to death. His only hope was to cling desperately to the roots, and hope that somehow, some way, help would arrive.

Samuel Avery's ordeal lasted the rest of that July afternoon. It continued as the skies grew dark with evening. The last of the tourists disappeared into the darkness. Avery was alone, gripping a root, holding on in a desperate attempt to survive. How his arms must have ached! His body was pounded by the force of Niagara. But still Avery held on. He may have prayed [which of us wouldn't have?]. He may have cursed his God for setting him in that place, that time, that seemingly endless peril [which of us wouldn't have?]. Still Avery held on. The skies grew dark, then lightened a bit as the Moon and stars appeared. Still Avery held on, clinging to the only thing that could keep him alive. The roar of Niagara must have deafened him. Its pummeling must have made him numb. But still he hung on to the roots.

Samuel Avery held onto the roots all through that night. Half-submerged, he watched the sky get slowly bright at dawn. He probably knew not what would happen next; all he knew was to hold on, and hope for aid.

Amazingly, that aid came. Some early-morning tourists spotted Avery, desperately clinging to life, signalled to him that they'd seen him, then went for help. The 19th- Century-equivalent of "first responders" came out, and examined Avery's plight. There was no way to reach him from where he was. After some rapid thinking, a boat tethered to the nearby Bath Island Bridge was lowered into the water. It was hoped that Avery could clammer into it, then be pulled to safety. Avery stretched out as far as he could, only to watch the boat sweep past his grasp. Another boat was lowered, then another. Finally, one of the vessels came within Avery's grasp. With the last of his strength, he pulled himself inside. But Niagara was not ready to surrender her prize! A sudden push in the current knocked the boat over like a toy. Avery was again in the water. But now he couldn't reach the roots. The boat was moving wildly in the water, and was impossible to grasp. In that moment, Samuel Avery realized that the long night, the struggle, the fear, had all been in vain. Raising his arms in submission, he screamed wildly as he was carried over the edge, into oblivion.

What does a man think, on the edge of death, as he fights with his entire strength to live? Truthfully, I cannot answer. But, should you encounter him in some lonely corner of the Afterlife, Samuel Avery would be a good person to ask.

Another story of Niagara comes soon. Until then, be well and happy.

-Mike Riley

"The Impossible" - Again

When I set up this web site, I really never thought that I'd be covering news in it. But "the impossible" has happened - again! Wednesday afternoon [March 11, 2009], a man went over the Canadian, or Horseshoe, Falls - without protective equipment of any kind - and survived! Here's a report on the incident [with in-page video]from Buffalo, NY TV station WIVB:

As this is being written [pre-dawn, March 12], the man's name and current condition are unknown. If he survives, he would become only the second person in recorded history to survive a Falls plunge without protective equipment. The first was Kirk Jones, featured in the next story [also with in-page video] , again from WIVB-TV:

[Jones' story will be the subject of a future post on this site. Watch for it]
As anyone who watches those "Magic Revealed" shows on TV would expect, there is much puzzlement about how Jones, and the unidentified jumper Wednesday, survived their plunges. Yesterday's incident is difficult to explain on a few levels:

-how could anyone survive the pummeling waters during the descent? - the waters of Niagara have carved the River's path through miles of solid rock over the centuries. One telling fact; there is a pool of water directly below the Horseshoe Falls. Despite the fact it is in water tranquil enough to operate tour boats [The Maid Of The Mist boats have used this route for over a century], no one knows how deep the pool is!

-what about the rocks behind and beneath the Falls? - here both Jones and the unknown jumper had a little luck [or, in the case of Jones, possibly planning. We'll touch more on that in his story]. Both men went over the Horseshoe Falls. Had either one had the misfortune to enter the water at the American Falls, it's likely they would have perished on the massive pile of rocks at its base.

-could the weather have played a part? - perhaps. I don't remember the weather conditions when Jones leaped in 2003 but, in recent days, there has been a good deal of rain in this area [in fact a flood watch was in effect for much of Wednesday]. Temperatures have been above freezing, melting much of the snow and ice around here, pushing more water into the River. This comes into play when you become aware that, during Winter months, the water flow over the Falls is reduced, allowing more electricity to be generated by power plants in the US and Canada. Jones speculated that a rush of water may have pushed him out past the rocks, allowing him to land in the pool at the base of the Horseshoe Falls. Could the increased flow of water from the rain and snow run-off have aided our unknown jumper?
All questions that may, or may never, be answered.

There is something magnetic about Niagara. Even in the coldest days of Winter, tourists arrive from around the world to view, to contemplate, to ponder. And sometimes they arrive for other reasons, as someone did one day in the 1980's:





A good question, Fred. It's believed on the order of 2,000 people have killed themselves by plunging into the roiling waters of Niagara in the last 40 years. And suicides at the Falls are not a new phenomenon; reports exist of suicides there as far back as records have been kept. Is Niagara cursed? A question to ponder...

I'll update this story as more information becomes available. Till then, be well and happy.

-Mike Riley

Bobby Leach: The Wildman

Looking through the history of stunting at Niagara, one simple fact becomes obvious: these people did not think the same way that you and I do. Even Anna Edson Taylor, whose 1901 challenge of the Falls was carefully planned and carried out, had somehow come up with the idea of riding Niagara inside a barrel in the first place. Mrs. Taylor was no stuntwoman, but a desperate person, hoping for fame and fortune, or, in darker moments, the death that would end her financial woes. What, then, of an actual stunter attempting her feat?

Bobby Leach was born in Cornwall, England, in 1858. Though details of his early years are somewhat vague, he came over to the United States at some point, and spent several years touring with Ringling Brothers' Circus as a stuntman. Eventually tiring of the touring life, he settled in Niagara Falls, opening a restaurant. While Leach had lost the taste for constant travel, he was still vitally interested in stunting. He concocted a plan to attempt what he called the "Triple Challenge":

-a barrel trip through the Rapids to the Whirlpool,

-a parachute jump off the Upper Suspension Bridge into the swirling River, just above the Rapids, and

-riding the Falls in a barrel [It's unclear if he considered this part before Taylor's 1901 Falls stunt].

He jumped from the Upper Bridge on July 1st, 1908. Leach's successful parachute landing made him the fourth person to achieve that feat. He conquered the Rapids in 1910 [although at least one source claims he accomplished the feat twice as early as 1898]. His 1910 attempt was not without difficulties; during his first try that year [when he may have been testing his Falls barrel], Leach became trapped in the Whirlpool. He had tied an anchor to his craft for ballast, but rocks tore the rope it was attached with apart. As he crashed wildly from boulder to boulder in the water, riverman Red Hill, Sr. was called for. He swam to the barrel, tied a rope to it, and dragged it to shore. Leach, knocked unconscious by the pummeling water and rocks, was fished out of the device. To add insult to injury, Hill slid into Leach's barrel, and rode it through the Lower Rapids to the nearby Canadian community of Queenston! During that summer, Leach made three successful trips through the Rapids.

On July 25th, 1911, Leach entered his eight-foot-long barrel. It was cigar-shaped and, unlike Taylor's craft, was made of metal. Leach's crew steered it towards Navy Island, where the current would carry it to the Horseshoe Falls. He was cut loose around 2:55 pm. The barrel moved slowly to the brink, taking eighteen minutes to go over the Falls. Once it cleared the Falls, though, a new problem arose; the barrel became trapped in the pool of water at the base of the Falls. 22 long minutes passed before Fred Bender [employed by the Ontario Power Corporation] was able to swim to Leach, tie a rope to the craft, and pull him safely to shore. Leach's ride was not as safe as Taylor's had been a decade earlier; the pounding had broken both his kneecaps, as well as his jaw. Still, he was able to shout drunkenly to the crowd, "Ain't nobody got nothin' on me now!"

Leach spent the next six months in a hospital, recovering from his injuries. Then he embarked on a world tour to tell of his exploits. In this, unlike Anna Edson Taylor, his luck was spectacular. Unlike Taylor, whose barrel was stolen by an unscrupulous manager, he kept control of his, making it a major prop in his presentation. Unlike Taylor, the old showman Leach embraced the music hall and Vaudeville circuits, and made a fortune telling of his stunts. Unlike Taylor, whose film of her stunt was somehow lost, Leach showed his footage wherever he went [Supposedly, the film was shown so much during his first year of touring that it wore out. Undaunted, Leach returned to Niagara, filmed his barrel going over empty, and showed that instead!].

After a few years, Leach again tired of touring, and returned to Niagara Falls, where he opened a pool hall. But the desire for stunting had yet to leave him. In his sixties, he made two attempts to swim from beneath the American Falls to Canada, but failed both times. He is known to have made a parachute jump from an airplane in 1920; he failed in his goal of landing in the River, ending up in a corn field miles from the water [Some sources say he made a second attempt, with similar results; other reports say he was disappointed with the result of his first effort, and cancelled the second attempt]. Through it all, he continued to tour with his barrel, his film, and his stories.

In February of 1926, he was in New Zealand, yet again on the music hall circuit. While taking his daily walk, he slipped on a piece of orange peel, fracturing his leg in the fall. The leg became gangrenous, and had to be amputated. But the poison had entered his body and, in those days before antibiotics, doctors could not cure his infection. Aged 67, he died on April 26th, 1926, in Christchurch, NZ.

Next time, another story of those who dared to challenge the thunder. Until then, be well and happy.

-Mike Riley

Beauty...and Disaster, at Niagara

Ask any winter tourist at Niagara Falls if the water ever freezes, and he or she will probably call it impossible. And, strictly speaking, the tourists are correct. But ice frequently forms over the water, especially the relatively tranquil pool at the base of Niagara [the route used by the Maid Of The Mist tour boats]. Before the 1960's, when an ice boom was first installed further up the River, huge chunks of ice from upstream would rush over the Falls, then collect in piles at the base. The constant flow of water would form more ice over them, giving them a solid and massive structure [don't believe ice can form so solidly? During World War II, the Allies actually investigated constructing aircraft carriers out of ice combined with wood pulp]. In fact, before construction of traditional bridges to span the River, the so-called "ice bridges" were the only way to cross Niagara.


Records of ice depth and size have been kept over the years; a look at some of the larger ice bridges can be found here. In years when the ice was thick enough, residents and tourists alike were known to walk on them, play outdoor games on them, even set up shanty-town villages of shacks on them to serve food and drink to those who came to play. Such a year was 1912.



In 1912 the ice bridge began to form in mid-January. By the 20th, it was considered solid enough to allow people on it. Indeed, the bridge that year was said to be particularly solid. Soon, the shacks went up to take care of visitors' needs. One of those huts was operated by "Red" Hill, who sold hot beverages and snacks to passers-by. Business was pretty good the morning of February 4th. By noon, some 35 people were on the densely-packed ice.


Suddenly, Hill felt a small tremor beneath his feet, followed by a creaking, grinding sound that could be heard over Niagara's mighty roar. As noted above, the ice bridges were usually solid. But they were only safe while moored to both sides of the River. If the attachment to either shore became loose, they would rock up and down above the constantly-rushing waters, and the internal tension would force them to pieces. Hill realized that the bridge was about to collapse. Knowing more than thinking about what to do, he began to herd the crowd towards the Canadian shore, which seemed more stable. Most of the people were able to flee the bridge to safety. But four remained: Eldredge and Clara Stanton, regular visitors from nearby Toronto since their marriage six years earlier, and two 17-year-olds from Cleveland, Ignatius Roth and Burrell Hecock. Moments before the groan, they could be seen throwing snowballs and playing leapfrog on the ice. Now, they were desperately running for shore.



Startled by the sudden, earthquake-like rumble, the Stantons headed for the unstable American shore. Just before they reached safety, the disconnected American side of the bridge began shaking wildly, separating completely from the shore. Precious seconds were lost while Eldredge and Clara reversed directions and began a desperate dash for safety on the other side. The struggle must have been horrific, with the two of them forcing their way across the shifting ice, slogging in sleet and trying to navigate sudden gaps in the surface. Just 50 feet from safety, Clara's strength gave out. She fell, exhausted, to the ice. Eldredge tried to lift his wife, but his strength was fading fast. Running out of time, he valiantly tried to drag his wife to shore, screaming for help.


Meanwhile, Hill, along with a friend, William Lalonde, managed to pull Roth to solid ground. They shouted for Hecock to jump the ever-widening gap between the bridge and shore. But he'd heard Eldredge's desperate cries for help. He ran back to the Stantons, and helped Eldredge bring Clara to her feet. But time was running out! The ice bridge was free of both shores now, and rushing headlong for the Whirlpool Rapids.



The remains of the ice bridge rushed down the River. Suddenly, it crossed the path of a strong, man-made current - a waste-water duct from one of the power plants lining the shores. The force of the water acted like a saw, cutting part of the ice away, and forcing the three unwilling passengers to the other side [towards the Canadian shore]. If they could have remained on the cut-away piece, they would have ground to a halt on the American side of the River. Their ice flow, however, continued, faster now, towards the Whirlpool.


But there was still a chance! Further down the River, before the Rapids, two Massive regular bridges crossed the Niagara. Rescuers were forming massive ropes, hoping to lower them to the Stantons and Hecock. Then the ice flow divided again, leaving The Stantons towards the Canadian shore, and Hecock floating in mid-stream. His fragment of ice reached the bridges first. A rope was lowered, and, incredibly, Hecock managed to grab it! The men above desperately pulled on the rope, trying to lift Hecock free. Their first attempt plunged him into waist-deep freezing water. The rescuers pulled harder. Slowly, Hecock rose from the River. Then, about 60 feet up, he lost his grip! Burrell Hecock flailed madly in the air, before plunging into the raging Niagara. No one saw him again.



The crews still hoped to save the Stantons. A rope was lowered as they passed the bridge. Eldredge, seeing Hecock's vain attempt, tied the rope around his wife's waist. But the ice flow continued downstream, the rope,became taut, and snapped. But the Lower Bridge was still ahead! One more chance! The rope was lowered. Eldredge began to secure it to his wife, then suddenly stopped. What must have he been thinking in that moment! It seemed, finally, that Eldredge had had enough. Rather than hope for an unlikely miracle, the Stantons seemed to surrender themselves to the inevitable, two more sacrifices to the angry God that seems to rule Niagara at times.


Eldredge and Clara Stanton were seen by the horrified crowds watching the drama to drop to their knees, likely in prayer. Eldredge put his arms around Clara as they knelt. Then, they reached the Rapids. A giant current spun them around, then flipped their sorrowful craft over. They sank below the water, never to be found.

After the tragedy, officials quickly moved to declare the ice bridges off-limits. They remain so to this day, and probably will forever.



"Red" Hill received his second heroism medal for his quick work getting most of the 35 souls to safety. But he said afterwards that he would carry the sight of the Stantons and Hecock's deaths to his grave.



We will see more of William Hill in future posts. In fact, he again plays a large part in our next entry, a look at the second person to ride the Falls in a barrel to safety. But this daredevil, Bobby Leach, was as un-alike Niagara's first conqueror, Anna Edson Taylor, as two people could possibly be. Till then, be well and happy.




-Mike Riley

William "Red" Hill Sr.; The Riverman

Few names are as inexorably linked with the history of Niagara as the Hill family, and especially the father, William "Red" Hill, Sr. The photo at left is from his display at the Daredevil Hall Of Fame (A larger version of this photograph is available here; it's worth a moment of your time, if only to see some of the information about Hill painted on his barrel). Hill is credited with saving the lives of 28 people. He was also honored by the Canadian Humane Society, for rescuing birds that went over the Falls and survived. He remains the most-honored rescuer in Canadian history. Many of those courageous efforts are connected with the River. When Bobby Leach made his successful plunge over the Falls in a barrel [more about Mr. Leach in a future post}, it was Hill who brought his barrel to safety and helped free Leach. When the Niagara scow became trapped just above the brink of the Falls, Hill rescued the two men aboard [another story for a future post]. Hill was also frequently involved in recovering the bodies of accident or suicide victims from Niagara, a task he performed some 177 times.

William Hill was born in 1888, in Niagara Falls, ON. His distinctive red hair soon gave him the nickname "Red", which he would carry for the rest of his life. Even as a child, Hill was brave; at the age of eight, he received his first medal for heroism when he rescued a young girl from a burning house. Also from a young age, Red was obsessed with the River. To the consternation of his mother, he would regularly skip school to study Niagara. In time, he gave up all formal education, choosing instead a life-long course of study on the River. He would throw sticks, tin cans, rope, whatever came to hand, and watch how they travelled in the water. Did they flow smoothly? Did they spin because of underwater currents? Did they sink, or float, or even fly out of the water? Red Hill could tell you, and where. It's believed that no person has ever known the intricacies of the Niagara River around the Falls better than Red Hill.

But William Hill was not just a hero of Niagara. During World War I, he served with the Royal Canadian Army, and was wounded four times by sniper fire. He also faced mustard gas in the field, which severely damaged his lungs. A doctor treating him suggested that he would fare best in a warm, dry climate, having no idea that Hill was from the cold, damp region of Niagara. But Hill came home, bearing two medals for bravery under fire, and spent the rest of his life as he'd spent the years before the war; always studying, watching, pondering the River.

Someone once asked Red Hill what he called himself. He responded that he was just a "riverman". In time, news stories began to use the term to describe him. So, too, will we refer to him. He will appear throughout many of the stories ahead, and stars in our next entry, a snapshot of a long-gone time, and the circumstances under which he received his second bravery medal. Until then, be well and happy.

-Mike Riley

Anna Edson Taylor 2: How The Tale Ended

Dear Readers: I have apologies to make, not only to you, but to Anna Edson Taylor. For almost two months now, she's been waiting, at the crest of the Falls, cramped inside an oaken barrel, waiting to see how her life would play out. She, and you, will wait no more! The rest of her story is here, with my sincere apology for its delay - MR

The barrel was sealed, and pressurised with a bicycle pump. It was cut free of its bond with the rowboat. Carried by the thundering waters, it began its run to the edge, and what was likely a fatal drop.The waters roared louder inside Anna's barrel as she approached the crest. Suddenly, a gasp from the assembled viewers. The barrel was coming down, down the face of the Horseshoe Falls! Then, with a massive splash, and a resounding crash, it reached the base of Niagara. The spectators were amazed that the barrel had survived its devilish run over the Falls without any apparent damage (Inside, Anna Edson Taylor was stunned. She had bumped her head on one of the barrel's inside surfaces. She was bleeding, but, when she regained alertness, believed she was mostly alright.).

The barrel bounced and spun in the rapids at the base of the cataract. Taylor was being shaken like a puppy inside her craft. Moving from wall to wall inside the barrel, she was repeatedly bruised, but amazingly, suffered no broken bones. The crowd at Niagara watched as a rescue boat [manned, one suspects, by some daredevils itself] headed out to Anna Edson Taylor. It took them some eighteen minutes to secure the barrel, and open some air vents. But Mrs. Taylor was inside for many minutes. more. Wild rumors ran through the crowd on shore. That crazy old woman was dead! Served her right, for daring God like that! But others watched the frantic efforts to open the barrel. No one would hurry like that over a dead body!

Then, the impossible! Looking more than a little shaken, helped by two or three men, Anna Taylor stepped out of the barrel! She needed help, but she was walking. She was gingerly aided to the shore, then across a low rock wall. Given a quick examination, she was found to be badly bruised, and suffering from a small gash on her head. But she had no broken bones, and seemed in good health. The assembled crowd roared its approval. Anna Edson Taylor had done the impossible! She had ridden over mighty Niagara, with only a mattress-padded barrel for protection, and lived!

Mrs. Taylor was the toast of Niagara. She posed with her barrel, and, no doubt, was looking forward to a comfortable future, her frightening ride behind her. In an interview shortly afterwards, she said, "If it was with my dying breath, I would caution anyone against attempting the feat. I would sooner walk up to the mouth of a cannon, knowing it was going to blow me to pieces than make another trip over the Fall". But, as was the case with stunters both before and after her, the Curse of Niagara took her in hand.

"Tussy" Russell, her manager, told her that she was the most-demanded attraction in Vaudeville. Everyone wanted to hear her story. In his hand, he held a fistful of telegrams, offering Anna bookings at the highest rates of the era. Mrs. Taylor looked at him coldly. Didn't he understand that she had no intention of appearing on the vulgar public stage? When Russell had invitations to appear on the more genteel lecture circuit, she would look at them then. Russell was able to find her a few opportunities to speak, but, ironically, the Chautauqua and Grange circuits found Mrs. Taylor's stunt too vulgar for their tastes.

Things spiraled downward for Anna Edson Taylor. "Tussy" Russell stole her barrel, a highlight of her talks. He hired a younger, more attractive woman to impersonate Taylor. What money she brought in went into a search for her stolen barrel. It was recovered briefly, then lost, this time forever. She had a replacement made, and posed with it for tourists at Niagara Falls. For a long time, such photos were her main source of income. But Anna, to her credit, never gave up. She floated a plan to raise money through the New York Stock Exchange [after concocting the idea of challenging Niagara in a barrel, anything must seem possible]. She briefly considered making another trip over the cataract [but apparently couldn't face that cannon's mouth a second time]. Mrs.Taylor tried to write a novel [no trace seems to have survived], to re-create her journey on film [it was never shown, and appears to have been lost in time], even, towards the end of her life, to act as a clairvoyant [perhaps implying that surviving Niagara gave her special powers]. None of it worked.

Blind, and nearly deaf, Anna Edson Taylor died on April 29th, 1921, more than nineteen years after her feat. Hoping to live out her days in control of her life, she instead died in an old-folks' home, virtually destitute. The Curse of Niagara, in retrospect, seems have taken out a harsh vengeance on her. But, of course, she is remembered to this day. She has been the subject of books, of songs, and even of a few poems.

There is a cachet in being first. Like many Niagara Daredevils, Anna Edson Taylor is buried in Oakwood Cemetery, not far from where I live in Niagara Falls, NY. Her tomb, along with many who challenged the thunder, is in a section known as "Strangers' Rest". Her stone carries neither her birth nor death dates. But it does tell you the most important thing about her:

I'll be back [a bit sooner, next time] with another story of the Niagara Daredevils. Till then, be well.

-Mike Riley

A. E. Taylor: Society's Child

There is a certain cachet that comes with being the first person to accomplish a feat. No matter how many others come after you, you have the exclusive right to say, "I did it first". How sad, then, that the first person to conquer Niagara Falls, by riding over them in a barrel, received few rewards for the achievement. As noted elsewhere in these stories, though, the number of those who have profited financially by stunting is much smaller than the number of stunters themselves. Perhaps if more of A. E. Taylor's story was known at the time, or Taylor had been a different kind of person, things might have gone better.

October is fairly late in the Niagara Falls tourist season; the uncertain [but usually cool, damp and windy] Fall weather in the region encourages visitors to come during the Summer months. But it was October, and late-October at that, when Taylor challenged the Falls.

October 24th, 1901, saw two distinct groups at Niagara Falls. One, composed of reporters and those who made their living from the Niagara River, were at the crest of the Horseshoe, or Canadian Falls [the international border between the US and Canada divides the two Falls of Niagara; the larger Horseshoe Falls, belonging to Canada, the smaller American Falls US territory. Due to the lower water flow and huge rocks at the base of the American Falls, no well thought-out attempt was ever made from it]. A larger crowd watched near the base of the Falls, wondering if what they were about to see was little more than a suicide attempt.

In time, Taylor clambered into a rowboat, lashed firmly to the shore. Tied to its side was the specially-designed barrel created for the feat. Two assistants helped her into...

Wait a minute! Did I read that right? The first person to attempt a Falls challenge was a woman?

Yes indeed. The "A.E." in Taylor's name was short for "Anna Edson". And the story gets better! Taylor, who claimed to be in her mid-40's, was actually 63! [The daredevil was not only a woman, but in her 60's]. An explanation of what brought Anna Edson Taylor to the brink is probably in order.

Anna Edson was born October, 24, 1839, in Auburn, NY. One of eight children, Anna lived a comfortable life, paid for by her father's prosperous flour mill. She was said to prefer outdoor sports with her brothers and others to the quieter pursuits of her sisters, but was fond of reading. Her father's sudden death when Anna was 12 caused much sorrow, but little change in her life; Samuel Edson had left a large fortune.

As she grew older, she began training as a teacher. Suddenly, at age 17, she married David Taylor, a fellow student. We know little of these years; the Taylor's probably made up money shortages from Anna's still-substantial inheritance, so she was able to continue her proper life. As we shall see, Anna's propriety would later cause her much suffering.

In 1864, Civil War raged in the US. David Taylor, a member of the Union Army, was killed in battle. Anna Taylor was widowed at the age of 25. But there was still the sizable inheritance to keep her lifestyle as she expected it should be.

Now began years of travel across the US. Most of the time, she worked as a dance teacher. But seldom were her expenses covered by her income. The inheritance was growing smaller each day. Finally, near the end of the 19th Century, she found herself in Bay City, MI. Unable to find work as a dance teacher, she plowed most of her remaining money into opening a dance school. The school was well-attended, at one time instructing over 100 students. But Taylor, used to an elegant lifestyle, gave her students the same. Once again, income was smaller than expenses. The school closed, leaving Anna dependent on the charity of relatives. For a lady like herself, this was just not acceptable.

Around this time, she read about the Pan-American Exposition, taking place in Buffalo, NY. It was drawing huge crowds, many of whom stopped off at Niagara Falls while in the area. Somehow [and I can't even imagine how], she came up with the idea of riding over the Falls inside a barrel. Using the last of her money, she had a extra-strong barrel built to her specifications, including a mattress inside for protection, and headed for Niagara Falls.

Anna's luck failed her now in two serious ways. As she headed for Niagara, US President William McKinley was mortally wounded at the Exposition. His death a few days later plunged the nation into deep mourning. Attendance at the Exposition, and at Niagara Falls, fell dramatically. Undaunted, Taylor continued her preparations. She could always give lectures on her feat, if she succeeded; if she didn't, what difference did it make?

Her second mistake was to hire Frank "Tussy" Russell as her manager. Russell, as we shall see, was not a man to be trusted.

Preparations continued, and finally all was ready. It's October, 24th, 1901. Anna Edson Taylor has turned 63 today. What thoughts must have been going through her mind, as she slipped into the already-wobbling barrel? What would be her fate: a return to a comfortable life, or oblivion beneath the churning waters? I can't imagine her being enthusiastic about the trip. But I do think she had a sense of contentment; either way, all her problems would soon be over...

Anna Edson Taylor's story concludes in our next posting. Until then, be well and happy.

-Mike Riley