Post by sue75 on May 14, 2010 20:07:38 GMT -5
www.fleminggazette.com/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=1498&Itemid=10
Museum Musings
Written by Brenda Plummer
Wednesday, 13 May 2009
By Brenda Plummer
As I have stated in this column before, it is always interesting to find out about individuals who were natives of Fleming County, and go on to do interesting and important things. This week, the subject is Harry Cassidy, a descendent of Michael Cassidy, one of Fleming County’s founding fathers, who made a name for himself as an examiner of forged letters. Two separate articles found in one of the scrapbooks of the Harriet Dudley Grannis collection at the museum give a little background about Mr. Cassidy. One is an undated article from the Courier Journal, while the other is taken from the Richmond Times Dispatch, December 8, 1950.
The article from the Courier Journal details Cassidy’s lineage --”Cassidy’s father used to exercise fine horses right on Flemingsburg’s Main Street. Cassidy’s father was Flemingsburg’s Chief of Police and Cassidy was a deputy. Cassidy’s grandfather was such an important part of Fleming County that the neighborhood where he lived was called Cassidy’s Station. And Cassidy’s great-grandfather--well that fellow’s activities at what is now Flemingsburg, as recorded in Collins’ History of Kentucky, draw many a chuckle to this day.”
Harry’s claim to fame, was that he was called to examine the ransom notes after the Lindbergh baby was kidnapped. “He testified at Hauptmann’s trial in Flemington, New Jersey and he was on the winning side.” The Dispatch article stated, “It was he who brought laughter in the famous Lindbergh trial when he testified that Bruno Richard Hauptmann had written the ransom notes in question. Asked how he could be positive of his conclusions when he was not present when Hauptmann wrote the notes, Cassidy answered in his folksy, Southern drawl: “I wasn’t present when Washington crossed the Delaware but I’ve got a pretty good idea he got over to the Jersey side.”
Harry Cassidy, was a document examiner for the Chesapeake and Ohio Railway and former superintendent of the Identification Bureau at the Kentucky State Reformatory in Frankfort. “He installed the fingerprint system at the reformatory about twenty-five years ago. Nowadays he is consulted about so many cases involving handwriting that he hardly gets home “long enough to whip the children properly.” The Courier Journal article also stated, “In Federal Court here in Louisville, several years ago, his testimony regarding a typewritten letter caused a Commonwealth’s Attorney charged with tampering with a Government witness, to change a not guilty plea to guilty...” When asked what impressed him most about the Hauptmann trial, Cassidy stated that “there is such a similarity between Flemington and Flemingsburg. Their Court Houses and their town squares are alike. Their little weekly newspapers and if many of the names of progress hadn’t durned near ruined Flemingsburg, their streets would be alike. Years ago in Flemingsburg, it seems, trees lined the streets, and their branches extended over the streets like bowers. But all those fine trees have been cut down to make way for hard streets and pavements.” The Journal article went on to state that “His favorite place is Flemingsburg, and he feels free to go there whenever he pleases because the statute of limitations bars action against him for having disrupted the town’s activities by a prank when he was a boy. It seems that one winter day yeas ago, when no one saw him, young Cassidy, even then interested in mysteries, left in the snow footprints leading to the town well. Beside the well he left a coat. Then he backed away, careful to step into the same footprints. The result was that later, when other persons noticed the one-way tracks and the coat, they concluded that someone had drowned in the well, and there was a great commotion. Grappling hooks, lowered into the well, brought up a straw dummy which had on it enough clothes to hold it together.”
The Courier Journal article also gives the name of his wife, Flemingsburg native Poyntz Richardson, who was a descendant of U. S. Grant.
The Richmond Dispatch article focused more on Harry Cassidy’s expertise. However, Harry apparently didn’t like being called an expert. “I don’t like the word ‘expert’,” he insists. “it’s presumptuous. Just because a man is a blacksmith and the only one in the neighborhood doesn’t make him an ‘expert’ even if he is a good blacksmith.” Cassidy not only examined handwriting samples, but also typewriters. According to the Dispatch article, “The 62 year old authority, has compiled several notebooks on the history of typewriters. These show the style and peculiarities of each model from the 1800’s to present. . . Cassidy has found that every forger makes some mistake--at least, everyone who has been caught. The kidnapper of the Lindbergh baby, for instance, wrote two and a half letters with his left hand and then apparently tired of the strain, shifted back to his right. His letters contained 14 misspelled words which pointed directly to him.”
Both articles also include a picture of Harry Cassidy--the Dispatch labeled him “Hanover County’s most contrary man.” Does anyone know “the rest of the story” about Harry Cassidy?
Museum Musings
Written by Brenda Plummer
Wednesday, 13 May 2009
By Brenda Plummer
As I have stated in this column before, it is always interesting to find out about individuals who were natives of Fleming County, and go on to do interesting and important things. This week, the subject is Harry Cassidy, a descendent of Michael Cassidy, one of Fleming County’s founding fathers, who made a name for himself as an examiner of forged letters. Two separate articles found in one of the scrapbooks of the Harriet Dudley Grannis collection at the museum give a little background about Mr. Cassidy. One is an undated article from the Courier Journal, while the other is taken from the Richmond Times Dispatch, December 8, 1950.
The article from the Courier Journal details Cassidy’s lineage --”Cassidy’s father used to exercise fine horses right on Flemingsburg’s Main Street. Cassidy’s father was Flemingsburg’s Chief of Police and Cassidy was a deputy. Cassidy’s grandfather was such an important part of Fleming County that the neighborhood where he lived was called Cassidy’s Station. And Cassidy’s great-grandfather--well that fellow’s activities at what is now Flemingsburg, as recorded in Collins’ History of Kentucky, draw many a chuckle to this day.”
Harry’s claim to fame, was that he was called to examine the ransom notes after the Lindbergh baby was kidnapped. “He testified at Hauptmann’s trial in Flemington, New Jersey and he was on the winning side.” The Dispatch article stated, “It was he who brought laughter in the famous Lindbergh trial when he testified that Bruno Richard Hauptmann had written the ransom notes in question. Asked how he could be positive of his conclusions when he was not present when Hauptmann wrote the notes, Cassidy answered in his folksy, Southern drawl: “I wasn’t present when Washington crossed the Delaware but I’ve got a pretty good idea he got over to the Jersey side.”
Harry Cassidy, was a document examiner for the Chesapeake and Ohio Railway and former superintendent of the Identification Bureau at the Kentucky State Reformatory in Frankfort. “He installed the fingerprint system at the reformatory about twenty-five years ago. Nowadays he is consulted about so many cases involving handwriting that he hardly gets home “long enough to whip the children properly.” The Courier Journal article also stated, “In Federal Court here in Louisville, several years ago, his testimony regarding a typewritten letter caused a Commonwealth’s Attorney charged with tampering with a Government witness, to change a not guilty plea to guilty...” When asked what impressed him most about the Hauptmann trial, Cassidy stated that “there is such a similarity between Flemington and Flemingsburg. Their Court Houses and their town squares are alike. Their little weekly newspapers and if many of the names of progress hadn’t durned near ruined Flemingsburg, their streets would be alike. Years ago in Flemingsburg, it seems, trees lined the streets, and their branches extended over the streets like bowers. But all those fine trees have been cut down to make way for hard streets and pavements.” The Journal article went on to state that “His favorite place is Flemingsburg, and he feels free to go there whenever he pleases because the statute of limitations bars action against him for having disrupted the town’s activities by a prank when he was a boy. It seems that one winter day yeas ago, when no one saw him, young Cassidy, even then interested in mysteries, left in the snow footprints leading to the town well. Beside the well he left a coat. Then he backed away, careful to step into the same footprints. The result was that later, when other persons noticed the one-way tracks and the coat, they concluded that someone had drowned in the well, and there was a great commotion. Grappling hooks, lowered into the well, brought up a straw dummy which had on it enough clothes to hold it together.”
The Courier Journal article also gives the name of his wife, Flemingsburg native Poyntz Richardson, who was a descendant of U. S. Grant.
The Richmond Dispatch article focused more on Harry Cassidy’s expertise. However, Harry apparently didn’t like being called an expert. “I don’t like the word ‘expert’,” he insists. “it’s presumptuous. Just because a man is a blacksmith and the only one in the neighborhood doesn’t make him an ‘expert’ even if he is a good blacksmith.” Cassidy not only examined handwriting samples, but also typewriters. According to the Dispatch article, “The 62 year old authority, has compiled several notebooks on the history of typewriters. These show the style and peculiarities of each model from the 1800’s to present. . . Cassidy has found that every forger makes some mistake--at least, everyone who has been caught. The kidnapper of the Lindbergh baby, for instance, wrote two and a half letters with his left hand and then apparently tired of the strain, shifted back to his right. His letters contained 14 misspelled words which pointed directly to him.”
Both articles also include a picture of Harry Cassidy--the Dispatch labeled him “Hanover County’s most contrary man.” Does anyone know “the rest of the story” about Harry Cassidy?