HENNEBERRY COMPANY AND FAMILY.

The following is taken from a book entitled “History of Kansas and Kansas, Volume 5.” The article concerning Mr. Henneberry is found on page 2455. The book was published by the Lewis Publishing Company in 1918.

“Patrick Edward Henneberry, president of Henneberry & Company, Packers and Provi-sioners at Arkansas City, is a veteran in the packing industry. He had his first experience in that business at Chicago in 1872 as a lad of thirteen. This was before refrigeration of meat products and modern methods of transportation by refrigeration cars had been introduced. He has been in the industry through nearly every phase of development, and his experience and enterprise brought the Arkansas City plant to a prosperous condition and one of the best managed of the smaller packing houses in the State.

“Mr. Henneberry was born in Covington, Kentucky, July 15, 1859. He entered the packing business when only a boy, and was employed in places of increasing responsibility by packers in Chicago. Coming west to Iowa with John Morrell & Company, he spent many years with that firm as general superintendent. He came to Arkansas City, Kansas, in 1903, and became president of the firm of Henneberry & Company.

“Mr. Henneberry resides with his family at 215 North B Street in Arkansas City. He is a member of the Catholic Church and of the Ponca City Council of the Knights of Columbus. On October 25, 1880, he married Miss Johanna Doody, who was born in Waterford, Ireland, in 1860. She was brought, when a child, by her parents to America. Mr. and Mrs. Henneberry are the parents of eight children: E. D. Henneberry, who is general salesman for Henneberry & Company and resides at 215 North B Street in Arkansas City, being a native of Chicago; Mary A., wife of Thomas McNally, president of the Pittsburg Boiler and Machine Company at Pittsburg, Kansas; Margaret, who is still with her parents; Anne, a trained nurse living in Chicago; Catherine, a student in the State Manual Training Normal School at Pittsburg, Kansas; John, who is with the Illinois Central Railroad at Chicago; Helen, a student in the Mount Carmel Academy at Wichita; Lucile, still in the public schools.”

Mr. Henneberry was in ill health for three and one-half years before his death. For a little over a year he was unable to attend to business at the plant. Six weeks before his death, he was taken to the Catholic Hospital (St. Mary’s) in Winfield where he passed away on Saturday, February 12, 1921. He was buried in Riverview Cemetery in Arkansas City.

Because of Mr. Henneberry’s ill health and his desire to have the packing company continue, he sold all of his stock in Henneberry & Co. to the newly formed Keefe-LeStourgeon Co. in September of 1920.

Mr. Henneberry’s eldest son, Edward, left Henneberry Packing Co. later in 1921 and went to work for the Hull and Dillon Packing Co. in Pittsburg, Kansas, as Sales Manager. He retired in 1955.

THE HISTORY OF HENNEBERRY & COMPANY.

By R. T. Keefe.

R. T. Keefe, of the Keefe-LeStourgeon Packing Company, once wrote a history of the early growth of the company for the Hustler, a plant publication. The story that follows was reprinted in the October 9, 1928, Arkansas City Traveler, which was celebrating the 25th anniversary of the packing house.

“The early history of any business is the lengthened shadow of one man as a rule. Henne-berry & Company (now the Keefe-LeStourgeon) in its early struggle, typified the aggressive spirit of its principal founder, Mr. P. E. Henneberry. Early in 1902 the writer was located at St. Joseph, Missouri, as superintendent for Morris & Company, then called Nelson, Morris & Company, and Mr. Henneberry was located at Kansas City, Kansas, as superintendent for Ruddy Bros.

“On July 4, 1902, the writer took advantage of the holiday and an urgent invitation from Mr. Henneberry and visited him at Kansas City. It was my first visit to that city, and the day was very warm, excessively so in the bottoms where the packing plants are located, and the impression I registered of Kansas City that first visit has never been changed. To me it is quite an undesirable place for man and beast, being too hot in summer and too cold in winter.

“Out of that visit the project at Arkansas City finally evolved. Mr. Henneberry left Ruddy Bros. and went to Pittsburg, Kansas, with Hull & Dillon, and the writer left St. Joseph and went with Armour & Company, Chicago, but before locating with Armour he visited south-western Missouri around Vernon County and spent some three or four weeks in the vicinity of Nevada, Missouri, where Mr. Henneberry had opened a large wholesale and retail market, with the intention of later establishing a small packing plant. For a couple of weeks I drove over the greater part of Vernon County, selling meat and sausage in a covered wagon, and sometimes buying hides and eggs.

“The result of my investigation was that we abandoned the idea of locating at that point, principally because the number of hogs raised was inadequate and the proximity of the location to the Kansas City plants was objectionable.

“In the early spring of 1903 Mr. Henneberry and the writer, on invitation and after considerable correspondence with N. D. Sanders, who was cashier of the Citizens State Bank, visited Arkansas City to look over the situation. Mr. Sanders had originally corre-sponded with a Mr. Stanton, who operated a large market at Pittsburg, Kansas, and who was also doing some slaughtering. He had ambitions to enter the packing house business in Pittsburg, but was fearful that Mr. Henneberry, who was superintendent for Hull & Dillon, and very aggressive, would eventually open a plant at that point. So, to get Mr. Henneberry out of the field, Mr. Stanton turned the Arkansas City correspondence over to him.

“On our visit to Arkansas City, Kansas, we arrived on train 405 Sunday about dusk, and after a lunch at the Royal Cafe, which was operated at that time by the Sidell Bros., Gus and Ed, and occupied nearly half the room about where the Puritan Pool Hall is now located, we strolled out over town. The sidewalks being old flag stones, worn more or less unevenly, one’s feet had to be acquainted or accustomed to the ups and downs in order to make any progress. The sidewalks on Summit Street were mostly covered by wooden awnings.

“The street illumination was nil. Here and there a lone cord with one 20-watt bulb hung in a window threw a shadowy light on the sidewalk. A few of the streets, such as Chestnut, Fifth Avenue, Washington, and Adams, where they intersected Summit Street, had sus-pended arc lights of the old style that threw a big shadow ring onto the center of the street into which all the frogs of the vicinity gathered for their nightly feed of bugs, flies, etc.

“We wandered down by the New Era Mills on West Madison Street because it seemed to be the only live thing in town after sundown, and we were attracted by the lights there, because the mill was running day and night shifts. We had a map of the city, showing the canal and the Frisco switch to the mill, and had been advised that we were to be tendered the use of an old stone building near the place where the canal empties into the Walnut River and we were anxious to see the site.

“I do not know how we managed to do it, but we worked our way around to the A. C. Mill and located the old chair factory, and decided that it was the proposed building. The electric light company was then owned and operated by the A. C. Land & Power Company, and Major Sleeth, Watt Sleeth’s father, was superintendent. They had a couple of old-styled water-wheels and a frame shack to house the machinery. How we found our way to town, I do not know: the night was pitch dark and there was a light rain falling.

“However, we returned to the Gladstone Hotel, which was then practically the only hotel in town. We were up bright and early Monday morning, and after a light breakfast, again at the Royal, engaged a horse and buggy at Frank Thompson’s livery barn, which was located where the Traveler office now stands. Old Bill Hines was the hostler. He gave us a white nag of variable temperament. We drove south on Summit Street and inspected the Polar Ice Plant; thence worked our way over across the Santa Fe tracks toward the A. C. Mill and again inspected our proposed site and surroundings after which we drove north on the mill road to Madison Avenue and east for some distance.

“I well remember meeting Walter Wilcox, who was being driven to town by his coach-man, and marked the dignified “Country Gentleman” appearance of the occupant of the surrey. Later we met Mr. Wilcox in the Home National Bank, where he presided with much dignity as cashier. By that time the banks were open, and we called at the Citizens Bank to see Messrs. Sanders, Hartley, and Deering. The latter two, taking us in hand, showed us the town and its principal industries in true style, winding up at the A. C. Ice Plant on South “F” Street.

“We spent Monday and Tuesday in Arkansas City, leaving Tuesday night for Oklahoma City and visiting Fort Worth and Sherman, Texas, before returning home: Mr. Henneberry to Pittsburg, Kansas, and the writer to Chicago. Mr. Henneberry returned to Arkansas City July 4th of the same year and our first charter application was made at that time for incor-porating $30,000.00 or 300 shares of $100.00 each. The first officers were P. E. Henneberry, President; Thomas Baird, Vice-President; J. G. Cassaday, Secretary; and R. T. Keefe, Treasurer. W. M. Limbocker, O. S. Gibson, and W. M. Martin were the other directors.

“The charter having been secured, the writer came to Arkansas City August 4, 1903, and commenced the erection of our first building, now known as Building No. 1. Mike Flynn was carpenter foreman, Dan Denahy was the brick foreman, and Bob Corlett and Three Finger Smith were the bricklayers. Henry Shipp and Frank Pinkerton, with Mike Flynn, did most of the carpenter work. We set October 10th as the day to start operating and commenced operations on time, although our equipment was not in the best of shape. Our boilers were not connected, and of course we had no refrigeration. Being accustomed, as Mr. Henneberry and the writer were, to Iowa and Illinois climate, it was expected that the weather would be cool enough to take care of meat without refrigeration, but some warm days in October and even in November caused us considerable apprehension. However, we rigged up an old ice box, a relic of the Nevada venture, and bought some ice from Mr. Deering, and packed our fresh pork in ice to keep it.

“The warm days did not last long and before Christmas we had all the cold weather we wanted, especially as we were in a more or less exposed condition because our buildings were not entirely completed. The thermometer showed 23 degrees below zero and it was at least 10 below in the shipping room where we were putting up orders. The writer’s hands would become so numb and blue from the cold that it was impossible to hold a pencil. Candidly, he confesses that never before nor since did he suffer such personal torture from cold as during the winter of 1903 and 1904. We had no convenience and no comforts. Overcoats, overshoes, and earmuffs in the office were not an unusual sight.

“Our hours were 6:00 a.m. to 6:00 p.m., and then after supper until 10:00 p.m. or 11:00 p.m. to keep up the records. Mr. Henneberry attended to buying the livestock, splitting the hogs and trimming hams, shoulders, and bellies, and between times tended the market. The writer was shipping clerk, sales manager, salesman, bookkeeper, timekeeper, purchasing agent, office manager, cashier, and between time tended market and drove wagons for short hauls.

“Our boilers not being completed, we made arrangements with Morris Bacastow to use his traction engine for making steam to scald hogs. Bert Beckley and John Bacastow were the two firemen, but both together could not get up steam enough to boil eggs let alone to scald hogs. However, we killed twenty hogs the first day, and we were started. We killed some two hundred hogs the first week, and two thousand hogs before the first of January.

“We commenced killing on a market around 5.50 per hundred. The market gradually declined until the last week of December when our average cost was 3.80 per hundred.

“George Sutton marketed some of the finest hogs we had ever seen from his Dexter farm, hogs averaging around 325 lbs. for 3-1/2 cents. That week they were very fine quality Poland China bred. We offered a prize for the first load of hogs brought in when we opened October 10th. Berry Scroggins, from over near Blackwell, drove in the night before and was camped here when we arrived at 6:00 a.m. Roy Levick came in second about 6:10 a.m. Roy was badly disappointed on account of not being first.

“Henry Behrens, who traveled over Southern Kansas and Oklahoma buying hides and skins, was the first salesman we engaged; and George Elliott, who now looks after our sales in Enid territory, was the second. Their territory was so scattered that it kept the shipping department busy buying maps and studying geography to keep up with them. One day we would receive orders for Caney, Kansas, and perhaps the next day for Coalgate, Oklahoma, followed the next day with an order for Higgins, Texas. We were then covering the great Southwest in spots.

“Our next salesman was Tom Weddle, who took over the Southern Kansas route. Weddle was a high flyer and played poker with other salesmen, including one of the Ranney Davis men named Anderson. They both went to the bad. Weddle skipped out with all of the profits from his labors, and more too, and went to Idaho.

“At this stage, the ice business being slack, we engaged Arthur LeStourgeon to check up this abandoned territory. This was Arthur’s initiation into the mysteries of the meat game. He did a good job, however; and after suing three or four banks from Peru to Coffeyville and getting nothing but court costs and lawyer fees for our trouble, we gave up trying to hold the banks for cashing checks made to our order and wiped the loss off.

“Mr. Weddle then opened negotiations to be reinstated. We forgave him and took him back. He stayed two months and ran away again with some more money. He never came back anymore. Mr. LeStourgeon then opened up a route for us into Oklahoma City.

“Our plant organization was built around Mr. Henneberry as general in charge, with Patrick Coyle as foreman of the killing and cutting department. Grant Partridge, chief engineer, Bert Beckley in charge of the lard refinery, Mary Henneberry, stenographer and bookkeeper and the writer, city salesman, shipping clerk, timekeeper and general office man.

“Our first efforts were to take care of the local city business, where considerable natural opposition was encountered because most of the local butchers at this time maintained their own slaughtering equipment, and some of them were almost, if not equal to ours. The principal butchers were James Axley, who operated a very creditable market, where the Frank Axley market was later located. Jim had a very well equipped slaughter house out on the Arkansas river northwest of town between the river and the canal.

“Hi Benshoof and Henry Kline were Jim’s two main men. Jim and his helpers were always most friendly to us. Fred Bowers operated the Star Market in one of the rooms now occupied by the Penney stores. Fred maintained his slaughter house down on the John Hanson farm near the Walnut river and often expressed the idea that our place would some day make him a nice place to do his own slaughtering, intending to convey to the writer that we would not remain long. Taking it all in all, Fred was a poor prophet.

“Ed Bird had a very nice shop where the Bower shop was later located. Sam Turvey was located in one of the small brick buildings down south of the St. Charles Hotel about where Downing’s Tin Shop is now. Williard Wentworth later opened a shop in the Louisiana Building erected on north Summit street by G. Luther Brown, and the Wilson brothers, Al and Bob, were located in the Syndicate building.

“The principal grocery stores were A. B. Ranney, corner of Summit and Central; Len Harned, located in the 200 block on south Summit street; Allie Moore in his present location, and Pa Hays store next to Fred Bower’s Star Market. Amos Willy was in the block north of the Home National bank. W. S. Peck located in the building now used by Newfield Jewelry. Our old friend, Henry B. Clapp, was in the 600 block on north Summit. His store, and one on south Sixth, run by another staunch friend named Ball, were the only suburban stores then in Arkansas City. Mr. Ball ordered Webster bacon from us for years. Although we never had such a brand, we learned long afterwards that it was one of Armour’s old brands that had imbedded its identity on his memory.

“Our equipment for delivery consisted of a big Studebaker stake wagon purchased from Frank Theaker, who was chief cook and bottle washer for Love and Sinnott, who operated an implement store about where Flindt and Magner later “said it with flowers.” In addition to this, we had one single-horse Whitewater farm wagon brought over from Pittsburg, Kansas, driven by Bert Beckley and Johnny Coyle. This was attached to a big sorrel mare which Mr. Henneberry had purchased at the same place. The narrow seated runabout was stored in the wagon and Mr. Henneberry’s favorite driving horse, Jupe, was led. Jupe now sleeps in the sand hill south of the plant. Mr. Henneberry, unable to find a suitable home for Jupe, and unwilling anyone else should own him lest he should be abused, had him placed there by a couple of the killing room boys for a small extra consideration.

“The spring of 1904 came, and with it came the rain and warm winds, melting the snow-capped mountains of the West, and the old Arkansas river found its banks too confining and proceeded to spread out over its old and abandoned bed. The entire populace, called by the siren blasts of the fire whistle, spent several days northeast of town piling high dikes of sacks filled with sand to save the Third Ward from inundation. The river finally cut across the Sixth street north of the bridge, overflowed Summit north of Lincoln avenue and down north of our present garage to the Santa Fe where the high ground of the Santa Fe right-of-way turned the current south cutting across where Bill Owen’s feed lot is and over through the orchard.

“It was there joined by another branch which flowed south on Summit from Lincoln avenue, going east by the side of where the Ma Chadwell house stood. The two branches met in the orchard about a 100 yards from the main stream, and the meeting caused a swirl that scooped out the ground to a depth of 40 feet, and was 100 feet long by 50 feet wide.

“The city dumped the rubbish and refuse into this hole for a year, and we finally succeeded in filling up the hole by scrapping the higher sand walls into it. The job took several years in intermittent labor with the assistance of the city. There is a fine collection of old stoves, tin cans, wash boilers, and similar junk to be found in this hole if it is ever excavated. There was 14 feet of water north of our present garage. This will convey some idea of the extent of the flood. We used row boats to bring the men to work and get them home, and rowed the cured meat and lard over in skiffs to our teams that were stationed about a block north of Stone’s corner at the edge of the overflow. We had no fresh meat for several days, but were the first to get products out to the surrounding territory. Wichita and Kansas City were also flooded in worse shape than we were. As soon as trains were able to operate we supplied the nearby towns with meat - the first to be in the field.

“Alfred Sowden, then a kid, had a fancy boat and put in several days helping us ferry the product over the swollen streams. Bill Heard and Bill Cleveland also furnished boats for the occasion. To further emphasize the swiftness of the current, I, remember Mike Flynn, our carpenter, attempting to row across, one morning, after staying all night at the plant, and giving up on account of its being too dangerous and Mike was a venturesome Irishman, too. Mike left us to accept a place with the Cudahy people at Kansas City much to our regret. He was a jolly witty Mike, and could turn his hand to any kind of work from coopering a terrace (Tierce) to building a beef or hog cooler.

“Henry Shipp and Frank Pinkerton and Bob Corlett could tell many an interesting story of Mike and his Blue Jays. That was the name he had given a 10 penny nail.

“Ed Henneberry came with us in the office about 1905. Previous to that time we had hired Johan Mohan, a Norwegian by birth, who came to America for romance. Johan and Ed became fast friends. Later they were both sent on the road and made good salesmen. Ed was energetic and evidence of his energy and zeal still stands in Mr. Pistorious’ pasture near Sedan, where he made a tremendous sign, “Ark Hams,” out of white stone on the side of a large hill, and kept it whitewashed so that it was visible for years from the passing Missouri Pacific trains.

“Later, we opened a branch house at Tulsa and put Ed Henneberry in charge. He had two assistants, Pat Patterson, now deceased, and Will Ward, and did a big distributing business out of Tulsa. This was when the oil metropolis was just getting rid of swaddling clothes.”

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Remember this was written sometime between 1921 and 1928.

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Henneberry and Co. stock was traded for Stock in Keefe-LeStourgeon Co. in September 1920. The plant continued to operate under its old name.