The Stoverstown Horror: The Burning of Kate Klinedinst

 

A few miles south of the city of York is the farming village of Stoverstown and the historic borough Spring Grove, famous for its Glatfelter Paper Mill, which has employed generations of local residents since 1851. The earliest settlers to this region were German woodchoppers, who, cleared the land upon which some of York County's most bountiful farms now flourish. Among these early German farming families were the Klinedinsts, whose descendants populated much of North Codorus and Jackson townships.

During the late 19th century, Charles Klinedinst owned a farm between Spring Grove and Stoverstown. His wife, Mary, bore him five sons and three daughters. Though Charles was said to be a stern father, his children faithfully and obediently pulled their weight around the farm. Of course, in every large family there is always a child who turns out to be more than a handful, and the rebellious "black sheep" of the Klinedinst household the first-born daughter, Mary Kate, known simply as Kate to her friends and family.

While little is known of Kate's early years, it appears that she found herself at wit's end in the early part of 1896 when the unwed teenager discovered that she was pregnant with the child of a local boy whose name has been lost to history. It was simply the timeless cautionary tale of the girl who "loved not wisely but too well". In April, when Kate's eighteenth birthday had come and gone and still there was no marriage proposal from the boy she loved, Kate grew sullen and depressed. In the eyes of those who lived in the conservative, religious farming community, to be a young, unwed mother was an abomination. The shame weighed heavily upon her shoulders, and in her future she saw nothing but misery and unhappiness, and the frightening burden of raising a baby on her own.

As spring turned to summer and summer gave way to fall, Kate saw less and less of her lover until he was nothing more than a sad memory. Perhaps he had been scared off by the prospect of fatherhood, or perhaps Charles Klinedinst had forbidden the romance. By November, Kate's despair had reached such depths that she began to formulate a drastic plan for escaping her predicament. Her next horrible step was so shocking that it caused wild rumors to be spread throughout the county, and even today the details about her tragic final moments are shrouded in mystery.

According to one version of the story, Kate Klinedinst had made up her mind to kill both herself and her unborn child after discovering that her lover had given his heart to another woman. On the early evening of November 23, 1896, Kate went out into a corn field and set fire to a shock of fodder. As night fell over the countryside, she kindled the cornstalks until a fierce, blazing fire was produced. And then she jumped into the fire, intent on self-destruction, until a group of men who had been attracted by the glow dragged her out of the flames, suffering terrible burns in the process. Kate was taken inside her home and died after a few excruciating hours, but not before giving birth to a baby boy.

This was the story first reported by the York city newspapers, but, after a few days, other local papers attempted to "set the record straight". According to an investigation by the Hanover Record (the site of the Klinedinst farm was roughly halfway between York and Hanover), Kate hadn't been betrayed by her lover at all. In fact, the young man in question hadn't even known about the pregnancy, and was devastated to learn of his sweetheart's tragic demise. It also emerged that Kate hadn't set fire to dried-up cornhusks at all. In this version of the story, Kate had walked across the cornfield to her father's orchard, where she wrapped a petticoat around her head and set fire to her undergarments, which she had saturated with oil, while leaning against the trunk of an apple tree.

The torture compelled her to run toward a creek about three hundred yards away (presumably the Stoverstown Branch of Codorus Creek), tearing off her clothing along the way. At some point she must've realized that it was futile to try for the stream, for her life was beyond saving, and so she ran to her house. By the time she reached home the flames had burned off her toes and fingers. She went to her room and called for her father, declaring that she was dying. Charles Klindinst raced up the stairs. Seeing her awful condition he summoned Dr. Decker of Stoverstown, but the child was born before the doctor arrived. As for Kate, she succumbed to her injuries at four o'clock on the morning of November 24. It was reported that Charles suffered such mental anguish that he lost his mind, and it required several men to hold him down so that he wouldn't harm himself.

The True Story

Regardless of which version of the story is true, the fact remains that Mary Kate Klinedinst died after setting herself on fire, either in a cornfield or an apple orchard. It is also true that she gave birth to a boy, named Clarence, shortly before drawing her final breath. The funeral was held on Friday, November 27, from the family home near Stoverstown, and was the largest funeral ever seen in that vicinity. Reverend Geesey of Spring Grove officiated the ceremony, and the body was laid to rest at St. Paul Union Cemetery.

As to the facts pertaining to the baby's father, these remain unclear, but the record shows that little Clarence was adopted and raised by Kate's parents. Despite the tragic manner of his birth, Clarence enjoyed a typical, happy child's life. In 1915, at the age of 18, he married his childhood sweetheart, Jennie Lucinda Emig. Because of her age (Jennie was seventeen at the time), the pair was married in Maryland, and they remained married until Jennie's death in 1955. Clarence, who passed away in 1976 at the age of 80, lived his entire life in Stoverstown. One peculiar footnote in the life of the child born in the midst of flames is that Clarence was a long-time member of the Stoverstown Fire Company.


 

Sources:
The York Daily, Nov. 26, 1896.
The York Daily, Dec. 1, 1896.
 Perry County Democrat, Dec. 2, 1896.
York Dispatch, Dec. 22, 1976.