The Road to Beech Mountain, Part 2: Before It Was a Scout Camp
The Road to Beech Mountain, Part 2: Before It Was a Scout Camp
Ashes to Ashes
The Big Bang
Off the Rails
An Epic Shell Game
Up in Flames
A Hidden Fortune?
School’s Out
Another Tragedy
Broken Curse?
Ashes to Ashes
After saying goodbye to leased or shared summer camps, the Orange-Sullivan Council began construction at its new Beech Mountain Scout Camp in the winter of 1940. First to be built was the Trading Post, which would be used for equipment storage during the offseason. It would also be the first building to be destroyed at the new camp.
A local Scout troop had received permission to use the building on the weekend of 4-6 October 1940 as base camp for a hike to visit a crashed plane. They returned from their hike on Saturday evening to find the building engulfed in flames and aided fire wardens in efforts to keep the fire from spreading any further. But the building and its contents were lost.
It is perhaps fitting that the Scouts marked their arrival in the area with a structure fire considering that previous groups to occupy the property ended their stay in the same fashion, though with far more tragic results. It all began 125 years ago with the arrival of Patrick H. Flynn, Brooklyn’s trolley king.
The Big Bang
This story begins with a single sentence published in a local paper in May of 1898:
P.H. Flynn, the multi-millionaire owner of electric railroads in Brooklyn, Newark and Jersey City, has purchased two thousand acres of land near Livingston Manor.
Patrick H. Flynn was a civil war veteran, politician, and real estate developer from Brooklyn who made his fortune as a contractor working on railroad projects in the New York City area. The initial notice of his Sullivan County land purchase may have been easy to overlook, but his work on the property drew plenty of attention. By December, he was receiving “vast quantities” of supplies for the tradesmen in his employ, making plenty of work for local businesses. All of this activity would eventually produce a $100,000 house on the property, which was shaping up to be quite the retreat for wealthy New Yorkers.
But first, Flynn started his tenancy at Beech Mountain with a bang. In an effort to restock Hodge Pond with trout, Flynn planned to use dynamite on the frozen pond with charges inserted into holes drilled at 100-foot intervals through 2 feet of ice. In all, more than a ton of dynamite would be detonated electrically to produce a “grand explosion” that would kill all of the fish simultaneously. What better way to announce your arrival than with a massive display of fire and ice?
In the end, the plan was only partially successful. Instead of the single grand explosion that was promised, there were three detonations over the course of half an hour, demolishing only part of the lake and using 2,500 pounds of dynamite. This was just the start of Flynn’s grand plans with less than ideal results.
In addition to the house and pond, the land needed quite a bit of work. Flynn offered prizes for building a road between Livingston Manor and Hodge Pond and hired a “gang of Italians” to work on clearing land and building roads. Flynn’s country manor was quickly taking shape. Maybe a bit too quickly…
The flurry of activity at Beech Mountain took a deadly turn in September of 1899 when Flynn’s Italian work crew was using dynamite to clear stumps. When one of the charges failed to detonate, foreman Joseph Luisano went to investigate. He lived until ten o’clock the next morning.
Undeterred, Flynn continued the work on the property and started plans for even more. There were rumors at the time that Flynn planned to build a boarding house and Flynn himself offered to fund the construction of a school for a new school district being planned for the area two years later. Nothing came of these plans, though the school part would come up again 27 years later.
Off the Rails
It’s easy to see Flynn’s activities as the exuberant indulgences of a wealthy New Yorker. He was even hailed as a trendsetter at the time, no doubt by people hoping that more wealthy businessmen in the area during the summer would lead to more money for local businesses (and tax revenue). But his business dealings at the time and the subsequent fallout would have his Sullivan County excursion viewed in a different light.
At the time of Flynn’s Sullivan County land purchase, he was in te process of selling his railroad company, the Nassau Electric Railroad, to the Brooklyn Heights Railroad. The sale was finalized on May 1, 1899, while work was well underway at Beech Mountain. Not content being out of the business, he and his associates incorporated a series of companies with a single ambitious goal: build a road and trolley trestle across Jamaica Bay to provide direct access to Rockaway. Flynn first conceived of the plan in 1897 and construction began in July of 1899.
The details of Flynn’s cross-bay project can be found in the book “The Long Island Rail Road: A Comprehensive History Part 5” by Vincent F. Seyfried. Chapter 8 covers Flynn’s efforts, which ultimately failed when the courts ruled a key lease to be invalid in 1902. The project was terminated and all work was abandoned (the project would be completed without Flynn’s involvement and opened in 1925). Flynn’s companies were estimated to have spent over $1 million with nothing to show for it.
That alone wasn’t enough to bankrupt Flynn, but one ambitious project wasn’t enough to keep him occupied. Instead, he doubled down and took on a water works project in Jersey City concurrently with his cross-bay project, establishing the Jersey City Water Supply Company the day after the sale of the Nassau Electric Railroad Company. That project was expected to pay out more than $7 million upon completion, which Flynn would never reach. Outside forces conspired to kill the project and Flynn and his parters were out the millions of dollars they had spent on it. Flynn then announced that he would be permanently living as a hermit on his Sullivan County estate with his niece, Helena I. Meht. As of 1906, bankruptcy proceedings were pending against Flynn in New Jersey.
If the story ended there, it would be a sad end to the storied career of a man who helped build the modern New York City, working both with and against the rampant corruption of the time. But this is where things get complicated.
An Epic Shell Game
Flynn’s legal woes would continue for another decade as his former business partners in the Jersey City Water Supply Company and his previous ventures all turned on each other and they, various banks, creditors, and estates and agents of the same all scrambled to locate and secure any funds they could lay claim to.
There was the $600,000 lawsuit by Michael J. Coffey, who alleged that he had been cheated out of profits from the sale of the Nassau Electric Railroad Company. This would be ongoing for several years, though Flynn’s responsibility was likely only in matters of accounting (which later testimony would show was really not his strong suit) and not the money itself.
And then there was a $50,000 judgment against Flynn for money owed to Russell Sage from the Jersey City debacle. Sage’s estate would continue trying to recover the money long after his death, with little success.
Another suit related to the Jersey City project brought by William A. Boland saw Flynn conspiring to pin responsibility for the money on one of his former partners. And on top of laying out the complexities of the Jersey City project, the case also mentions yet another failed project, this one a trolley venture in Michigan. Another curious detail is the allegation that Flynn maintained possession of all of the company’s stock and intended to distribute it to the partners after the sale (which never came), much like what was reported in the Coffey case regarding the sale of the Nassau Electric Railroad Company.
Through it all, Flynn maintained that he was penniless and had no assets to use to satisfy any judgments. But others were not so easily convinced. Flynn had amassed a portfolio of cash, stock, property, and judgments against others, including assets held by banks and defaulted collateral, obtained through decades in real estate and railroads. On top of that, many believed that Flynn held assets under other people’s names, including “niece” Meht and Mary Flynn, his sister. Proving what Flynn actually owned was a nearly insurmountable task. I’m not going to try to unravel all of it a century later.
By 1913, the issue of how much Flynn owed and to whom was largely settled. But the hunt for his assets was ongoing. One target of the hunt was another Flynn niece, Emma J. O’Connor. Her testimony that year painted a picture of someone with absolutely no knowledge of the business deals being made in her name and little interest or understanding of the intricacies of investing. Which is odd considering that she was the plaintiff in a series of lawsuits regarding the sale of the Long Island Traction Company, brought in her role as a major shareholder.
O’Connor was the owner of parcels of land in Jamaica Bay that were believed to actually belong to Flynn and had been transferred to O’Connor to shield them from Flynn’s mounting judgments. Despite Flynn’s insistence that he was simply helping O’Connor to invest her money, the court ruled that Flynn was insolvent when the transfers were made, invalidating them.
Meht was perhaps even more involved in the attempt to shake loose Flynn’s hidden assets. As early as 1903, Flynn had been transferring his property and property in his wife’s name into Meht’s name. Even earlier, in 1899, Meht received property from the Blythebourne Improvement Company, which had Flynn on its Board of Directors. Meht also financed the purchase of an iron works, which was not proved to involve Flynn’s money. Despite this, Meht testified that she knew nothing of Flynn’s property or what became of it. When questioned about why she never asked him about his business, she stated “If I wanted to ask him any question he would say, ‘That is not for women.'” A curious statement from someone who transferred so much of his property to women.
And, bringing this back around to the topic at hand, Flynn’s Sullivan County estate was actually purchased in Meht’s name. Flynn testified that Meht wasn’t actually his niece but had been his ward since she was six months old and was never formally adopted. He also claimed that he had not given her any money since 1899 and in fact had borrowed money from her at that time to finance his later failed ventures. Whatever the truth of its ownership, the Beech Mountain property and its mansion would remain Flynn’s home long after the attempts to find his money ended, which some believed had been his plan all along.
Up in Flames
Flynn spent the next decade out of the public eye, possibly sleeping at night and walking during the day as Meht had testified was his routine now that his days in business were behind him. As if to confirm that Flynn had no more secret assets to be seized, property taxes on the Flynn/Meht estate hadn’t been paid for some time and the state was set to sell 60 acres of the property at auction in June of 1926. Or maybe it was a separate property that Flynn had forgotten about and Meht didn’t know she owned; there was a 60 acre purchase in Meht’s name in 1907.
And then on May 14, 1926, Flynn’s $100,000 mansion burned to the ground. Meht was able to get Flynn out in time, but he never recovered from the shock and died a month later at the age of 80-something (reports of his age ranged from 80 to 86). He was later buried in a rustic coffin of his own construction.
In September, the ultimate fate of Flynn’s fortune was revealed. In his three-line handwritten will, Flynn left all of his worldly belongings to his ward/niece/housekeeper Meht. According to the will’s executor, this property had approximately “the value of a bale of stock in a salted gold mine.” Another estimate put its value at about $500, noting that the mansion had not been insured because of its distance from water supply. If only he had kept his water supply company ambitions closer to home…
A Hidden Fortune?
With his mansion in ashes, fine mahogany furniture and all, and Flynn laid to rest in his handmade rustic coffin, the search for any remnants of Flynn’s fortune was finally at an end. Or was it? After Flynn’s death, longtime associate Fred Cocheu stated:
Mr. Flynn, contrary to a story published by one newspaper, did not die in poverty. He had made and lost a great deal of money, but he was comfortably situated at the end.
Was the image of P. H. Flynn the penniless country hermit nothing more than a mirage? Some seemed to have believed so, as a writer looking for a story found when talking to a neighbor who had recently gone on a fishing trip in Sullivan County (the start of many a shaggy dog tale, I’m sure). According to this neighbor, locals referred to Beech Mountain as “Dynamite Mountain” and “inhabitants hereabout believe that large amounts of cash are hidden about the place, and they have torn up the floor of the buildings and the grounds in search of the ‘hidden treasure.'” Others also reportedly had been in search of a hidden tunnel and had resorted to consultations with fortune tellers and clairvoyants, with less than favorable results.
[History Channel narrator voice] If Flynn did have millions in cash stashed in his country estate, where did it go? Did it burn in the fire? Was it buried with him in the lining of his rustic coffin? According to longtime Flynn associate Harry Hanbury, there was no hidden money. But can Hanbury be believed? After all, he was once jailed for contempt of court when he refused to answer questions about business dealings with Meht, who was believed to be acting as a proxy for Flynn. Perhaps he was so loyal to Flynn that he would continue to keep Flynn’s secrets even after his death, possibly recovering the money himself. Or maybe the hidden fortune remained in place and its recovery was the driving force behind the sale of the property to a group from New York City more than half a century later. Could this group have been run by… Descendants of Flynn associates?
Seriously though, any hidden assets Flynn might have had at the time of his death had probably long been in Meht’s name and/or possession and likely left with her. None of the extensive activity on the property over the next 50 years turned up any buried treasure and I have yet to find any source to corroborate the “Dynamite Mountain” nickname. This just reads as a tall tale spun to satisfy a writer’s boredom.
School’s Out
Following the departure of Flynn and Meht, the property was occupied by various logging companies as it contained some of the last virgin forest in Sullivan County. In 1928, the logging camp of E. E. Archer of Titusville, PA was the site of a confrontation between the state and local taxpayers. Because there were children living at the logging camp and the distance to the nearest school in DeBruce (about 5 miles away) was too far to walk, the state ruled that the town of Rockland was responsible for providing either a branch school or transportation to one of the town’s schools for those children. With the road from the camp to DeBruce deemed too dangerous to use for transporting children, a school for the camp was ordered.
But the town refused the order, even though the state would pay for the cost of the teacher and the school. Town residents united in protest, seeming to invoke the “in my day, we walked 15 miles to school, uphill both ways” argument. There was concern that submitting to the order would result in similar demands in other outlying parts of the town and residents objected on principle.
Much like Flynn’s offer to build a school on the property, it does not appear that anything came of this. And with the Great Depression looming ever closer, everyone would soon have bigger problems.
Another Tragedy
Five years later, children would once again be at the center of a story about the old Flynn property, only for much more tragic reasons. Elvin Lobdell, an unemployed woodcutter, was living with his wife and four children in a shack owned by the Young Lumber Company of Elmira, NY years after the company had finished logging in the area. On February 27, 1933, a fire started in their home, supposedly due to an overheated stovepipe. Lobdell, alerted to the fire by one of his children, was able to get his wife and youngest two children to safety but couldn’t get through the flames to rescue the other two children. Lyle Lobdell, 12, and Marjorie Lobdell, 11, were killed in the fire.
State troopers brought food and clothing to the family after learning of their plight. It’s not clear what became of them after that. A headstone on the property serves as a memorial to the two children lost in the fire.
Broken Curse?
Back in 1940, yet another building on the property lay in ashes. Unlike in 1933 though, nobody ws hurt. And unlike in 1926, the building and its contents were insured. Perhaps this ended some unknown curse and helped to usher in 40 years of camp experiences free from tragedy.
Flynn would continue to be part of the camp’s lore for several decades, though somewhat embellished for dramatic effect. A campfire story scared campers with a warning that “a hunchbacked man wanders the camp’s 2,300 acres at night looking for heads to lop off with his double-bladed ax.” This man was said to be seeking revenge against the Scouts he blames for burning down his mansion. The story likely changed considerably as the decades passed, diverging more and more from the sliver of truth it grew from with every retelling until being put to rest with the sale of the camp in 1981.
But before we get to that, we have more than four decades of memorabilia to sort through.