Along Memory Lane

Camden cops who once wheeled dead drunks, sometimes howling drunks, a mile or so through the streets to City Hall are becoming few and far between. There are few who remain, either active or retired, who fought roughneck gangs single handed, who never deigned to send in a riot call. Encounters with a terror like old Mike Kelly, who could wallop half a dozen ordinary men when filled with "red eye" are but legends of the department. All this and much more is recalled in the death of William Harvey in his 83rd year, a typical "English heart o' oak" in the good old days when a man was simply compelled to show his mettle to remain alive and kicking and a policeman down at old Kaighn Point. Certainly in the late '80s and for a quarter a century later Kaighn Point would have been altogether lost without this doughty arm of the law. He was part and parcel of it as were the veteran shad fishermen, the oystermen from off the pungies, the hard boys from the fishing and ice boats who could whip their weight in wildcats and yell for more, such as "Big Bill" Zaiser, "Tar Heel" Henry, the Bearn boys and others, most of whom have gone the way of all flesh. * * * Harvey, who lived for many years at 1010 South Second street, was in the heydey of his strength when he was appointed a policeman by Mayor Pratt on August 26, 1886. He was out a few months in the hectic days of '93-'94 when the Democratic police commission was in power, but with the ousting of that outfit Harvey returned on March 31, 1894, and remained until retirement on March 1, 1912. It was during that early period that he used to scare us kids when he chased us home after dark. The youngsters of that generation were wont to yell "Billy Grab All," and then beat it in more or less terror. It was not until later they learned his value in preserving order in a mighty scrappy area. There was an organization known as the Avenue Club with headquarters below Front street which played high jinks on Sundays in particular, regarded as an abomination by the church goers. Harvey was detailed to break it up. Well we recall one Sunday afternoon in the then provincial town when Harvey made a raid, a single handed raid. We forget the exact number, but as we recall it 21 of the "avenooers" were marched two by two with the valiant "Bill" at the head all the way to City Hall, a good mile and a half away. And the one-man raid was effective. It was in the fierce election fight incident to the old race track days in '94 as a small kid we see in memory's eye "Old Bill" Harvey badly beaten in front of a polling place on Mt. Vernon street. Democratic enemies blackjacked him, kicked and cuffed him, used him for a football. Even then he refused to take the count, but a Democratic cop "necked him" and took him to the hall. We were frightened stiff when we saw his battered, blood-stained face. No mercy in those hard days, for Harvey was jailed and excoriated as a "rioter"! * * * But he had his comeback not long after and the rough boys were nearly shoved off the face of the map when the "organization" returned in force with J. Leighton Wescott as mayor. When the patrol wagons did away with pushcarts, when the call system was inaugurated, when the force was increased, conditions eased up. In his later years Harvey delighted in "flivvering" about, spent many a happy hour with the old timers in fire or patrol houses, frequently recalled the glorious days when it was just as easy to find a real scrap as it was to eat a hearty meal. In his early days Harvey had followed the sea and it seemed to me he never lost the roll of the deck. Certainly he never lost that indomitable spirit born of the freedom of the wave, never called quits in a tight corner, never raised the white flag. "Old Bill" sure was the epitome of all that meant a real cop when it was a survival of the fittest.