Brick Yards, Large and Small, of Philadelphia - by W. P. Lockington - The Clay-Worker, May 1903

John Sullivan's Yard - One of the Driveways 

Written for the Clay-Worker.

BRICK YARDS, LARGE AND SMALL, OF PHILADELPHIA.

AS AN ILLUSTRATION of how the brick yards of Philadelphia are being pinched by the real estate operators, let us take the case of honest John Sullivan. Ten years ago he was up to his eyes in clay and brick stacks, waiting for the time to come when hard would fetch ten cents apiece. He was then at 52 and Market Street, with nothing but vacant lots surrounding him and the charming landscape relieved by a few wind-tossed willows and an unlimited chaos of tin cans, and a tribe of goats that roamed about in utter ignorance of their respective gender. 

Then came the era of the iron rail and speeding trolleys, and the big operations of Pemberton & Co., which slowly but surely entered the vitals of John Sullivan’s yard, and when ’97 was reached there 'was not space enough left in that yard to think, and so Mr. Sullivan, hitherto used to plenty of space, was doomed to fish around for a fresh location, finally locating at East Lansdowne. 

The average thinking man would have said this ought to be a good place. The West Side was being built up with a nice class of suburban residences, costing from $2,800 to $7,000, and so John Sullivan pitched his tent, or, rather, machine shed and kilns, and went in for work. But East Lansdowne remained in a quiescent and dreamy stage, and for three years nothing but a new letter box and a waiting room for the trolley passengers was erected to break the vista and the monotony, and early morning and late at night Brother Sullivan would gaze along the dust-ridden roads, watching the approach of the brick makers’ allies, the real estate operators. 

John Sullivan's Yard - An Empty Kiln

Meanwhile he had built up five ten-arch kilns, installed in the machine shed a Wellington machine, with all the necessary attachments, roller-bearing barrows, and in close proximity erected a steam dryer, with a capacity of eighteen thousand bricks, and an additional rack dryer with a two-hundred-and-fifty-thousand capacity. 

The clay bank, running on an average about seven feet, is good in color and consistency, and this is worked out from the bank into crusher, and thence to pug mill and to the machines. The past year put a new impetus into things. Feelers were put out, and Mr. Sullivan’s patience was rewarded by a few good orders within the city limits. Hauling was easy and the price O. K., and for the first time since he left the old stand “ rustle ” was the word of the day all over the fifteen acres, men and bricks flew, and John Sullivan was able for last year to get out nearly two million bricks. 

Encouraged by the prospects, he put in a “ Big No. 6 ” Monarch, and from this he expects to get thirty-five thousand daily. He has opened the season by hauling bricks for an operation of sixty-two three and two-story houses at Fifty-third and Chestnut Streets, and has taken the contract for the school house at Darby and the large sewer main in West Philadelphia. But the best eye-opener is the breaking of the ground right here in his vicinity for a row of two and three-story houses, and hard by, at Clifton, a big stocking factory is to be erected, and the call has been made on patient John Sullivan to supply the job. These, with another operation of fifty two and three-story houses at Fifty-second and Nandain Streets, will keep them busy for a little time, and thus we leave them bright with future hope, the yard full of sunshine and good bricks, the book filled with orders, and the faces beaming with pleasant anticipations. 

John Sullivan's Yard - Loading Up

THE EQUITABLE BRICK MANUFACTURING COMPANY, SIXTIETH AND PINE STREETS.

The last time I entered this yard I had good cause to remember it — torn clothing, a badly punctured forearm and a smashed camera, the result of being pitched off a trolley. The blood poured down my sleeve, and the hands in the yard gave me their carbolic acid and their sympathy. But we did our work, and The Clay-Worker’s editor said “ ’twas good,” so we said nothing about it. 

Since that time I have gone through thirty-six States, but have yet to discover a yard that is so marked with a sense of discipline and order. Cert it is that this one may be credited with being the garden spot of Quaker City brick making. Viewed in the sunlight, the snug little office set up of stretcher brick, well and cleanly painted and decked with roses, myrtle and clematis, framed with a good, hard shell pathway, flanked with poplars, would without hesitation give the Kimballs — W. H. and brother — the palm, or wreath, of merit. 

Part of the weekly order and discipline is that every Saturday afternoon the place be trimmed and swept, the stalls, sheds, posts and rails given a coat of whitewash. You may guess the sequence. The bosses and the men both take a solid delight and pride in so keeping it. 

Even the teams share in the little additional touches foreign to most brick yards. Harness is kept bright and the big grays are set off with bright red blinker plumes, at once recognizable as the Equitable Brick Company throughout the length and breadth of the city. After passing the offices, stalls and stables, you can get a view of the lines of six thirteen-arch kilns, with an individual capacity of three hundred thousand, and on this, the fourth day of the month, the teams were following one another with increasing regularity, and at 4 p. m. the hauling for the day totaled ninety-eight thousand five hundred, as against sixty-five thousand for January and February. 

The Equitable started up a month earlier than is usual with them, owing to the many heavy building operations which were booked in March for the April workings. With a banner record of ten millions dollars’ worth of building, ’tis no small wonder that the cry goes up from the Quaker City brick maker that “ we have booked all the orders we can fill for this season so far, and must respectfully decline,” etc. 

In this yard over eight million were already booked before the close of the April month, and, notwithstanding that the Chambers end-cut machine, faithful in the performance of its duty in turning out sixty-five thousand daily, and for which both boss and foreman give the machine absolute credit and careful attention, it will be seen at a glance that there can be no great reserve to fall back upon. 

The cars are kept running fifteen, and even sixteen, to the hour. With fifteen cars they have seven thousand five hundred to dispose of every hour in the steam dryer, whose utmost capacity is sixty-five thousand. 

Following out the line of discipline and perfect order, however, everything moves along with clock-like regularity. Twelve million stretcher and hard were sent out last year, and this year promises a heavier volume of business. 

The hand gangs will be set to work about the middle of the month. The order has gone forth to burn no salmon. Only stretcher and hard will be handled. 

The clay bank, running about eight feet, is yielding first-class clay, and in close proximity to the machines. Taking one big contract from among the bunch, I find this is for James Clark, an operation of two and three-story houses at Fifty-third and Race Streets, and the call is for three million of the best. 

A few such orders will keep them jumping; but here’s where I get off. 

Good-by.  W. P. Lockington. 



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