Charles Johnson owned a sprawling farm in the rural Hillside district of Southwick, Massachusetts, just off what is now Charles Johnson Road. Isolated by a half-mile stretch from his nearest neighbor, the Johnson homestead stood in quiet solitude—a typical rural setting of the late 19th century. On the evening of January 10, 1894, Charles carried a lantern as he made his way to his barn to feed his livestock. As he tossed hay with a pitchfork, he accidentally knocked over the lantern. Within seconds, flames raced through the hay, igniting the barn into a massive blaze. Charles fought to save what he could, but the fire moved too fast. He was able to rescue only five of his twelve cattle before the barn was consumed. The flames quickly leapt from structure to structure, engulfing every outbuilding and finally overtaking the farmhouse itself. Inside the house lay the bodies of Charles’s elderly father and mother-in-law, both of whom had passed away earlier that day—one from pneumonia, th...

On March 7, 1854, William H. Johnson, a machinist from Granville, Massachusetts, was granted U.S. Patent No. 10,597 for a mechanical mechanism that enhanced the efficiency of sewing machines—a rapidly evolving technology of the era. That same year, his invention earned him a silver medal at the Exhibition of the Industry of All Nations, held at the New York Crystal Palace, a showcase of American ingenuity and industrial progress. In his patent filing, Johnson summarized his invention as consisting of what he called the "belaying double-loop stitch" with a single thread by the employment of one needle used in connection with a double-spring hook over which the loops are formed, the needle working vertically and having a vibratory side motion, so that each time it passes through the cloth or other material to be sewed the material is moved forward a sufficient distance for the succeeding perforation, thus constituting the machine which forms the seam using a single thread and f...

      In 1868, a labor dispute in Westfield’s cigar industry exploded into a dramatic—and deadly—conflict. And before it was over, threats had turned into violence, police were chasing fugitives, and a bullet fired in Southwick would bring the whole thing to a shocking end. It all started with one woman.  A Factory, a Union, and One Bold Hire Harrison & Carpenter was one of the largest cigar manufacturers in Westfield. In what the company described as a charitable act, it hired a German immigrant woman who was supporting both an aging mother and a fatherless child. Management saw it as an act of kindness. But for members of the Tobacconists Union Association—a powerful cigar makers’ union—the woman’s hiring was a betrayal. She was not a union member, and the act of hiring outside the union was viewed as a direct challenge to their authority. Despite her circumstances, union members demanded she be fired. When Harrison & Carpenter refused, the union went on st...

On January 4, 1916, Charles Grace, a night watchman for the New York, New Haven & Hartford Railroad (NYNH&H), discovered something troubling in Plainville, Connecticut. While inspecting a sixteen-car freight train on the New Haven line, he noticed a boxcar with a broken security seal. At first glance, the seal appeared intact—but on closer inspection, Grace saw that someone had cleverly twisted it back into place to conceal the breach. Sensing something was amiss, he began a thorough inspection of the entire train. To his alarm, eleven boxcars had similarly tampered seals—all carefully manipulated to disguise the fact someone had opened them.   Grace immediately alerted trainmaster John Snezeley.  A subsequent inventory revealed the extent of the theft: two bicycles from Westfield Manufacturing Company (later known as Columbia), a complete set of sixteen law books, a typewriter, seven chairs, sixteen pairs of high-end men's shoes, and—remarkably—two en...

In 1947, Michael Tysz of Southwick, Massachusetts, was enrolled at the Commercial Trades Institute, a technical school located in the Rogers Park neighborhood of Chicago, Illinois. He was studying refrigeration, auto repair, and auto body work. Also attending the school was Anthony Godek from Feeding Hills, Massachusetts. The two men would stay at rooming houses, and they co-owned a truck, which they sometimes lived in. On October 28, Michael received a letter from the school regarding his poor academic performance. Upon reading it, he remarked to Anthony, "Gee, a guy in a mess like I'm in ought to shoot himself." Anthony dismissed the comment at the time, thinking little of it. A few days later, on November 3, Anthony returned from classes to a grim discovery. Inside their truck parked in front of their rooming house at 1604 Lunt Avenue, he found Michael's body with a bullet hole through his head. Michael was holding a knife in his hand, and a .22 caliber rifle lay n...