Showing posts with label Butler. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Butler. Show all posts

Friday, October 28, 2016

The Statue of Liberty in Butler: the story evolves

Longtime readers may recall our surprising discovery of the Statue of Liberty on the balcony of the Butler Police station. To sum up, this eight foot-high replica - which looks pretty accurate at a distance - stands proudly in a prominent part of town, with no apparent connection to the community besides a general air of patriotism. A street in town is named for the statue's sculptor, Frederic Bartholdi, whom we later discovered was a friend of Richard Butler, the community's namesake whose rubber factory was once the largest employer in town. However, there's no prominent signage to describe the link to curious passers-by.

A bit more digging led us to discover that Mr. Butler had his own connection to Liberty Enlightening the World, as the statue is more officially known. The rubber magnate was the Lee Iacocca of his time, playing a major role in raising funds for the construction of the Statue's pedestal. As secretary of the American Committee for the Statue of Liberty, he donated the services of his rubber factory to ship miniature Statues to contributors. In recognition of his service, the French government named him a Chevalier of the Legion of Honor.

That solved one mystery, but we were still left to wonder about the origin of the police station Liberty. We figured she probably wasn't actually manufactured in Butler, since the statuettes the rubber company shipped were made by the Newton Bottle Stopper Company of New York. Still, she looks too accurate to have been crafted by a well-meaning fan.

It took us a while, but we got the answer during a visit to the Butler Museum during Morris County's recent Pathways to History weekend. According to the Butler Historical Society folks, their Liberty was one of several that were used as decoration on Liberty Island for the Statue's rededication celebration in 1986. How it got from the celebration to Butler is another question for another day; our friends at the Historical Society invited us to come back to review their substantial collection of Statue-related documents, ephemera and artifacts.

We kind of like this mystery and where it's taken us. Sometimes uncovering the story in pieces is even more fun than getting to the bottom of it in one swipe.



Thursday, October 11, 2012

Liberty in Butler: an update

Regular readers know that I volunteer for the National Park Service and a non-profit organization called Save Ellis Island. Besides getting me into some pretty cool behind-the-scenes situations, I get to learn more about the Immigration Museum and the Statue of Liberty than most people would ever think to ask about. Many of the rangers are more than happy to share details they unearth in their own research.

Sometimes that leads to weird coincidences, like when a ranger discovery crosses a Hidden New Jersey jaunt. It happened just the other day, when one of them pointed out that a bust in the building's library portrays New Jersey rubber magnate Richard Butler.

The mystery of the Butler
Statue of Liberty has been solved...
sort of.
What does a manufacturer have to do with a national park? Good question, and I thought I knew the story. You might recall that a few months ago, Ivan and I learned about Butler after discovering a replica Statue of Liberty in the Morris County town that bears his name. The borough also has a street named for the Statue's sculptor and Butler's close friend Auguste Bartholdi. Since my research didn't come up with much more of a connection, I'd figured that the replica Statue was yet another tribute.

Well, apparently I should have looked at it from the opposite direction. Butler wasn't just a friend, he was the Lee Iacocca of his time, playing a major role in raising funds for construction of the Statue's pedestal. As secretary of the American Committee for the Statue of Liberty, he also donated the services of his rubber factory to ship miniature Statues to contributors. In recognition of his service, the French government named him a Chevalier of the Legion of Honor.

I wish I could say that the fundraising statuettes were manufactured in Butler, but that honor went to the Newton Bottle Stopper Company of New York. Marked with the name of the committee that sold them, the six- and twelve-inch tall keepsakes are no doubt valuable collectors items today.

The provenance of the Butler police station Liberty is still a mystery for us. Did Richard Butler purchase it for the borough, or is it a newer addition to the community? Various larger-sized replicas were cast in France, but lists of their possible locations don't include New Jersey. We'll track it down someday.

Sunday, July 29, 2012

Liberty enlightening... the Butler police station?

Our recent visit to Butler brought about a somewhat puzzling find; one that led me to discover a little known link between the borough and the great New York Harbor.

They're both home to the Statue of Liberty.

Yup, you read that right. Lady Liberty surveys downtown Butler from the balcony of the police station.


Now, don't get me wrong. I love the statue as much as the average American, maybe even more. I still cling to the belief that she stands in New Jersey, despite a 1998 Supreme Court decision that upheld the bi-state compact that deemed Liberty Island to be within New York borders. Other New Jerseyans feel so strongly about her that they've erected their own renditions of her on their property.

However, I have never seen a copy of the statue on public property. Why Butler? I mean, it's a perfectly nice town, and I'm not saying they aren't entitled to a Statue of Liberty, but what's the special significance for that community?

The answer may come from a long ago friendship. The town's namesake, business executive Richard Butler, was an art lover and was one of the founders of New York's Metropolitan Museum of Art. Among his friends was Frederic Bartholdi, sculptor of the Statue of Liberty that stands in New York Harbor. My guess is that the statue somehow memorializes that friendship, giving the town their tenuous but clearly prized relationship to Liberty Enlightening the World. There's even a Bartholdi Avenue in town, making it even more certain, in my mind, at least, that the local statue is no coincidence.

We didn't try to see if we could get closer to the Butler version to check it out -- it's at the police station, after all -- but it looked pretty authentic. Except for the color, that is. Perhaps she was erected to celebrate the 100th birthday of her counterpart in the Harbor?

Friday, July 20, 2012

The Jersey bounce: our history in rubber manufacturing

I've long known Butler as a small, quiet borough near Route 23 in Eastern Morris County, but it wasn't until we stopped there one Sunday that I realized the role it played in what was once a prominent industry in the state.

Much of the town's small business district is dominated by a large industrial building standing hard against the railroad tracks. In fact, it appears as if the town center might have been built around the mill-like structure. Little did we know that we were gazing upon yet another milestone in the annals of New Jersey industrial history: the site of the world's oldest manufacturer of hard rubber products.

Richard Butler bought the Newbrough Hard Rubber Company already operating in town and eventually combined it with others to create the American Hard Rubber Company in the late 1800s. Through his vision, the community grew exponentially, with hundreds of workers coming to live near the factory that provided them with jobs. The municipal website says that the Butler Rubber Mill was once the largest manufacturing facility of its kind in the world.

I'd never really connected the dots before, but it seems that New Jersey has a bit of a rubbery past that extends well beyond Butler. According to the Encyclopedia of New Jersey, New Brunswick was the site of one of the country's first rubber factories, built in 1838 by Horace Day. It might also be considered an early recycling venture: the facility manufactured rubber shoes using alcohol, white lead, lampblack and rubber salvaged from imported Brazilian shoes and syringes. Charles Goodyear later successfully sued Day for copyright infringement when the New Jerseyan claimed to have been the first to vulcanize rubber to make it more durable.

In spite of Day's setback and the movement of much of the industry to Akron, Ohio, the state continued to play a prominent role in rubber. Milltown already had a sixty-plus year history in rubber manufacturing when Michelin came to town in 1907, adding a decidedly French influence to the community. Its workers produced over 4500 tires and 15,000 inner tubes a day, until the plant closed in 1930.

Never one to pass on a challenge, Thomas Edison even took a crack at the rubber business in the later years of his life. The breadth and severity of World War I prompted Henry Ford and tire magnate Harvey Firestone to be concerned that future conflicts could curtail the import of South American raw rubber to the United States. Certainly their friend Edison could come up with an alternative?

Many people don't realize that Edison loved chemistry and took great pleasure in experimenting in his lab. In what was destined to be his final project, he set about to derive rubber from the goldenrod, first by hybridizing the plant. His experimentation resulted in taller stalks that yielded more natural rubber than the average plant, yet the actual product failed to meet the desired standard. The U.S. Department of Agriculture continued his work after his death but finally closed the project in 1934, without a positive result.

Butler's rubber industry declined first with the massive 1957 fire at the Pequanock Rubber Company, and finally with the closure of the last factory in the 1970s. The original product may be gone now, but the town can be proud of its contributions to American industry.