DESPERATE ENCOUNTER WITH A GIANT BLACKSMITH, WHO HAD SUDDENLY LOST HIS
MIND AND BECOME VIOLENT.
Mr. Hoffman, I believe his first name was John, was a blacksmith, and
about thirty years old, six feet in height and weighed over two hundred
pounds. He was a powerfully built man, quiet in demeanor and good
natured. He was employed in the blacksmith shop of Trax & Cramer, which
was the largest establishment of its kind in or about Oil City,
Pennsylvania. They employed a large number of mechanics and their
helpers.
It was a very warm morning in July and the men were hard at work at the
shop, when suddenly the big man, Hoffman, attracted the attention of his
companions by his actions. He was known to them as a sober man, and his
sudden and strange conduct was a great surprise to all around him. He
became violent without any apparent provocation, and all in a moment. He
began throwing things, hammers, tongs, and large sized pieces of iron
and steel, in fact anything he could get hold of, through the shop. His
fellow workmen were unable to get to him. He began foaming at the mouth
and making a noise like the muttering of thunder in the distance. In
short, he had evidently become violently insane within a few moments.
The City Hall was situated on the opposite side of the street, and but a
short distance north of the blacksmith shop. The messenger from the shop
was sent, posthaste, for police assistance. I was the only officer there
when the messenger arrived, and being the only one, I responded to the
call.
On reaching the shop I found Hoffman occupying the building alone. He
was standing near the center of the shop with a sledge hammer in one
hand and a large piece of steel in the other, and apparently ready to
attack any person that might appear within his range. The other
occupants were all in the street and outside the door and out of his
reach. A large crowd of passers-by had been attracted by the excitement,
and were blocking the sidewalk in front of and near the place.
On taking in the situation, as above described, I concluded that the
only thing that could be done was to seize and overcome Hoffman as soon
as possible, so as to prevent him from injuring himself or others. The
question then arose as to how this giant could be overcome and subdued
without injury to any one. The bystanders were all anxious to see him
captured, but there was none present that appeared willing to assist.
I noticed at once that Hoffman was watching the crowd and that his
attention was in that direction, so I went around to the rear door and
approached him from behind, being unobserved by him. I seized him around
the waist and threw him down on the floor, but as he was like a rubber
ball and strong as a lion, and perspiring as though he had been
sprinkled with a hose, he soon squirmed himself out of my grasp and
sprang to his feet. I again grabbed him by the legs and threw him to the
floor. Although I was strong and a pretty good wrestler, I found it easy
enough to throw Hoffman to the floor, but it was impossible to keep him
there, he being so strong and active. He had scarcely any clothing on,
and by reason of this and his perspiring so freely, he was as slippery
as an eel, and I could not keep my hold on him.
After I had thrown him down several times, which required every ounce of
strength that I possessed, I found myself becoming exhausted, and
finally in desperation I summoned all my strength and power and
succeeded again in throwing him down, and this time I was fortunate
enough to secure what the wrestlers would call the strangle hold, or
neck grip, on him, thereby succeeding in shutting off his wind. I then
yelled to the bystanders to help me, and finally a couple of them did.
With their assistance I succeeded in holding him down until another
bystander brought a coil of clothesline from a grocery store, which was
directly across the street. I took the clothesline while the citizens,
who had volunteered to assist me, were holding him, and commenced to
wind it around his legs from his feet to his body, and then his arms,
fastening them so that he could not move. I then procured a wheelbarrow,
patrol wagons not being known then, and placed him in it and wheeled him
from the shop to the lock-up, where he was examined and pronounced
violently insane. In due time he was placed in a straight-jacket and
taken in safety to the county institution for the insane at Sugar Creek,
Pennsylvania, where he died in a few months without having recovered his
mind.
This, I believe, was the most desperate and dangerous position I was
ever called upon to face during my whole life.
The reader should remember that the blacksmith was almost a Hercules in
stature and strength, and being insane his strength really had no
bounds.