Identifier: belltelephonemag00vol2930amerrich (find matches)
Title: Bell telephone magazine
Year: 1922 (1920s)
Authors: American Telephone and Telegraph Company American Telephone and Telegraph Company. Information Dept
Subjects: Telephone
Publisher: (New York, American Telephone and Telegraph Co., etc.)
Contributing Library: Prelinger Library
Digitizing Sponsor: Internet Archive

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y-guard of the Presidentdashed through therain to a press tentset up across the streetand shouted to the tele-graph operator: Rushthis to Roosevelt! The Ride Through the Night Between ten and eleven that eve-ing at the Tahawus Club at the Up-per Works, there was a knock onthe Roosevelts door. It was themessenger, back from the LowerWorks with reports of a telephonetalk he had had with Loeb, the VicePresidents secretary, who was at theNorth Creek railroad station. Mc-Kinley was in a coma and a telegram,delayed in transit, stated that it wasimperative for the Vice President tocome to Buffalo at once. Roosevelt threw on his clothes andjumped into a waiting buckboard.The driver hurried him in total dark-ness down the rough and windingroad, arriving at the Lower Worksat i :oo a.m. Here the Vice Presi-dent telephoned Loeb in North Creekto say he was on his way. The Adirondacks Stage Companyhad arranged for the necessary re-lays, and one of the surest driversin the North Woods was ready with
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Driver and team: Mike Cronin and the rig which carried Mr. Roosevelt on the last lap of the journey through the dark to the North Creek railroad station 204 Bell Telephone Magazine fresh horses. Under ordinary cir-cumstances the next lap, to AidenLair, nine miles away, was a some-what better stretch of road. But amisty rain was falling and the driver,scarcely able to see the horses heads,could only trust to his instinct toguide them as they sped along therutted road. Roosevelt made no ef-fort to converse with his driver onthis wild ride but remained given upto his thoughts. At 3:15 a.m. therig pulled into Aiden Lair, sixteenmiles from the Delaware & Hudsonterminus at North Creek. Mike Cronin, keeper of the lodgethere and a spirited Irishman in hismiddle thirties, had been watchingthe road for hours. Soon his blackhorses and surrey were dashing south-ward over the road they had knownthree or four times a week all sum-mer. Except for an occasional queryas to the distance remaining,

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