Hanging out in Queens

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The remnant of P.S. 59, which was destroyed by the cyclone that hit Woodhaven 131 years ago, on July 13, 1895. Only that this storm struck on a Saturday in July prevented this from being a far more tragic tale.

 

Next week marks the 131st anniversary of the infamous storm that struck Woodhaven, Queens. It was on July 13, 1895, that the storm swept in from the south, leaving a trail of destruction in its wake. Three people would ultimately lose their lives, including one victim more than 100 miles away in Cherry Hill, New Jersey.

The storm cloud, estimated to cover an area of 300 square yards, first struck Woodhaven at Jamaica Avenue and Elderts Lane after sweeping through Cypress Hills Cemetery, where it toppled monuments and ripped out trees and headstones.

Eyewitnesses described the cloud as massive and dark, with some saying it was shaped like a funnel. Others recalled a soft red glow within the cloud. Trees and chimneys were torn from their foundations and hurled through the air as if they weighed no more than feathers. Several people were lifted off their feet and carried through the air before landing a block or two away.

The worst destruction occurred at the newly built two-story brick schoolhouse at University Place (95th Avenue) and Rockaway Road, today Rockaway Boulevard. P.S. 59 had been built in 1890 on land purchased from manufacturer Florian Grosjean, whose legendary factory and clock tower still stand on the border of Woodhaven and Ozone Park.

The roof of the schoolhouse was ripped away and the upper half of the building collapsed. The fact that the storm struck on a Saturday in July prevented this from becoming an even greater tragedy. No one was injured inside the school. Outside, however, it was a different story.

One block east of the school, at 3rd Avenue (84th Street) and Rockaway Boulevard, 16-year-old newlywed Louise Petroquien was sitting at her sewing machine when she heard the commotion outside. Looking out the window, she saw the massive dark cloud overhead and ran outside to warn her mother.

She emerged from a side doorway, but before she could shout a warning, a large beam torn from the roof of P.S. 59 struck her in the head and neck, killing her instantly. It was her mother, returning after the storm had passed, who found her daughter’s body beside the steps leading to their home.

The storm continued south toward Jamaica Bay, leaving an eerie silence amid widespread devastation. Although nearly 150 homes were damaged, accounts differ on how many were destroyed. The true number was probably somewhere between 15 and 30.

In the days that followed, more than 100,000 people traveled to Woodhaven on the Long Island Rail Road along Atlantic Avenue to witness the destruction. While residents cleared away debris, visitors dropped coins and bills into barrels set up to aid the nearly 300 people who had lost everything, or nearly everything, in the storm.

The main attraction for many visitors, however, was the Petroquien home. The family allowed people to enter through the same doorway Louise had rushed through moments before her death. Visitors stepped past the spot where she had fallen before entering the parlor to pay their respects as the young bride lay in a rosewood coffin beneath a mound of flowers.

For more than a century, accounts of the 1895 storm referred to Louise Petroquien as Woodhaven’s only fatality. However, another victim has been largely forgotten: five-year-old Johnny Kolb.

Johnny had been playing near Atlantic Avenue and Rockaway Boulevard when the storm struck. He was later found beneath the rubble with a broken arm and leg and died the following day from his injuries. Both Louise Petroquien and Johnny Kolb were buried in Cypress Hills Cemetery.

Today, the intersection of 83rd Street and Rockaway Boulevard, now part of Ozone Park, gives no indication that it was once the scene of one of the area’s most destructive storms. A new school was built just one year later at the same site where the original building had stood. In the latter part of the twentieth century, the building became well known as a Friendly Frost appliance store.

What happened there 131 years ago serves as a reminder that we remain at the mercy of nature and its ability to humble us without warning.

By Woodhaven Cultural and Historical Society