A Tragedy at Port Griffith

 

Miners' wives at Port Griffith during the Knox Mine Disaster, 1959.

The wide, blue Susquehanna is a serene and peaceful river most of the time, but when she decides to turn angry, she can be as cruel as any cold-blooded killer. On Sunday, May 9, 1909, the Susquehanna added to its long list of victims by sending nine unfortunate boaters to their watery grave, in one of the deadliest boating accidents in Luzerne County history.

It was around nine o'clock that morning when a group of fifteen men, women and children-- friends and relatives of a successful, 27-year-old immigrant businessman named William Andruscavich--  arrived at the Andruscavich home on Briar Hill, in the Pittston "suburb" of Port Griffith. Many in this party were tenants who lived in one of Andruscavich's rental properties in Scranton; they had come to not only pay their month's rent, but to enjoy the company of their jovial landlord and his wife. Also in the group were William's brothers, Theodore and Andrew, who had also traveled to Port Griffith from Scranton.

In preparation for the visit, William Andruscavich had purchased four kegs of beer, whiskey, and plenty of food for his guests to enjoy. By afternoon the weather had warmed significantly, and around two o'clock someone made the suggestion that the group should take a boat ride on the river. A boat was borrowed from John Cisco, who lived on Main Street and owned a number of boats which he frequently rented out to local residents. Andruscavich selected a large rowboat, about 12 feet in length and 40 inches in width, with five seats into which William and eight of his guests crowded into before rowing out into the river at a point opposite of the Ewen coal breaker. Those who could not fit into the boat picnicked on the bank of the river.

The tragedy happened so fast that none of the guests sitting on the riverbank even had time to witness it. The way they described it, when the boat was about 150 yards downriver, one of the men fell overboard into the swift current that sluices past Wintermoot Island. In his desperate attempt to save himself he grabbed onto the bow, unintentionally pulling the front of the rowboat down into the water, causing it to capsize. Every one of the eight boaters, including two young children, were pitched into the swollen river, their hysterical screams shattering the silence of the beautiful, sunny afternoon as they floundered in the water.

The screams of the victims, coupled with those from the guests on the bank, attracted a number of people who were out strolling along the railroad tracks, but in the frenzy of excitement and confusion no one could figure out how to rescue the unfortunate boaters. No other boats were tethered to the shore, and no other boats appeared to be out on the water; they had no choice but to stand idly by and witness the ghastly drowning of nine innocent men, women and children.

But then, downstream by Monocanock Island where the bridge crosses the river into the borough of Wyoming, a small boat appeared, and for a moment it seemed like the prayers of the helpless spectators had been answered. The boat was occupied by two young men from nearby Inkerman, and as soon as they heard the cries they raced toward the scene of the disaster. Tragically, their valiant efforts would be in vain. Like the others, the would-be rescuers watched helplessly as a woman and two children disappeared beneath the surface of the water, never to re-emerge. They saw six men floating and flailing, handicapped by their bulky clothing. These men were not expert swimmers, but even an expert swimmer could never make it back to shore from that distance with such a swift current. One by one the doomed swimmers dropped out of sight until only two remained, dipping below the surface momentarily, then reappearing with a desperate, hungry gasp for air. A few waves of the hands and both men disappeared beneath the swirling water.

About thirty minutes later, the empty rowboat was pulled ashore near the Port Blanchard Hotel by ferry operator James Sharps. An expert riverman, Sharps realized at once that the rowboat, though large, was not large enough to accomodate nine passengers. He also realized that attempting to recover the bodies was an exercise in futility, one that would imperil his own life. It wasn't until several hours later when four boats set out from Pittston with four members of the State Constabulary armed with grappling hooks. Troopers Parkinson, Gallagher, Hughes and Wandoll dragged the river until nightfall, with no success. The following morning at sunrise they returned to the scene of the tragedy and tried again.

By this time the Andruscavich home on Briar Hill had become a gathering place of the broken-hearted, and it was a pitable sight that greeted the newspaper reporter from the Pittston Gazette who visited the house in Port Griffith which had, only a day earlier, been filled with laughter and joy. William left behind a wife and three small children. Even though he worked as a miner in the Pennsylvania Coal Company's No. 14 shaft, he had managed his money wisely; not only was he able to own his own home with his meager miner's salary, he had purchased numerous other properties in the vicinity, becoming a well-liked and respected landlord. Also drowned in the river were William's brothers, Andrew and Theodore Adruscavich, along with two of William's boarders, 24-year-old Adam Strunkus and 28-year-old Frank Mariansky, as well as the entire Pasternak family-- Mrs. Pasternak and her two boys, ages 3 and 8, were the first to disappear into the depths of the swollen river. 

When it was revealed that William Andruscavich had drowned with $100 in his wallet and a gold watch in his pocket, some nefarious types couldn't resist the temptation to exploit the tragedy for their own financial gain. The Pittston Gazette reported that one young man, posing as a physician, arrived at the Andruscavich home and volunteered to treat William's widow for her despondent condition. While "examining" Mrs. Andruscavich, the con artist was able to pocket a considerable sum of cash and jewelry before being apprehended by the police. 

It even appeared that William's employer was out to cash in on the tragedy. A notice placed in the Wilkes-Barre Record on May 12, 1909, reads: 

Lost between lower end of Port Griffith and river bank, a gold watch and chain and $100 in cash. Finder please return to Joe Veito, assistant foreman, Ewen breaker, and receive reward of $50. 

This could only be the valuables William Andruscavich had taken with him to his watery grave.

Meanwhile, authorities continued to drag the river, but finally abandoned their search on Friday, May 14, claiming that it was too dangerous to continue the task. The river was too high, the current too swift, and the men had lost several grappling hooks to the rocky bed of the Susquehanna. By this time, they reasoned, the bodies most likely had been swept miles downriver; it was anyone's guess where they might eventually turn up, if they were to ever turn up at all.

The following day, however, the Susquehanna gave up its first of the nine victims, when the body of Adam Strunkus was discovered at Midvale by two boys fishing in the river. The body, which was bloated and badly decomposed, was identified at the establishment of Undertaker Lokuta in Dupont by relatives. As the waters of the Susquehanna began to recede, five more bodies were recovered.  The bodies of William and Theodore Andruscavich were found near the Market Street bridge in Wilkes-Barre on May 16. A few hours later Mrs. Pasternak was pulled from the river at Port Bowkley, where it was spotted floating midstream. An examination revealed that her neck had been broken, hinting that she may have made a desperate dive to the bottom of the river in an attempt to rescue her young children. 

At approximately the same time, a body washed up on the riverbank in front of Rutledge's Hotel in Port Blanchard, and the body was identified as that of Mr. Pasternak. On May 17, the body of the youngest Pasternak child, Michael, was found near the Wilkes-Barre city dump, about a mile and half south of the Market Street bridge, by a group of children. Two days later, Joseph Pasternak's body would be located on the riverbank at Nanticoke, where it had been washed ashore, while Frank Mariansky's body would be found on Fish Island, near Plymouth, on May 20. All of the victims, who were of Polish descent, were buried in the Catholic cemetery in Exeter.