Kent State's forgotten first football team

Ask just about anyone at Kent State what year the first football team played, and you'll get the answer: 1920. Indeed, KSU's first football game was against Ashland College and was played October 30, 1920 in Ashland, Ohio. The first home game was played a week later when KSU hosted Bowling Green at the first game at Rockwell Field, the grassy area now known as The Commons.

In going through Kent State yearbooks to find information about Rockwell Field, I found that while the 1920 team was the first team to actually play, it actually wasn't the first football team at what was then the Kent State Normal School. The 1915 Chestnut Burr, Kent State's yearbook, not only makes mention of a team being assembled, but it has the 12 man roster listed so we know who was on the team and what position they played.

Page 132 of the 1915 Chestnut Burr

This first team, though, as the Burr explains,  never played a formal game. It had two practice games against local high schools (which was common in those days since football players weren't the size we think of today). After those two practice games, it says the Executive Board and Faculty voted to discontinue to the team to focus on basketball. While there was hope that the team would return in 1915, there is no indication of any football team until the 1921 yearbook, which highlights that inaugural 1920 season. I thought it was interesting that I found mention of this first Kent State football team exactly 100 years after that first attempt!

Considering that the 1914-15 academic year was Kent State's second year of full existence (first classes were held in 1912 with the first classes on campus in May 1913), and the fact that the school was still a teacher training school (i.e. a "normal" school), it should be of no surprise that there was hardly a large amount of men on campus. Teaching was still a largely female dominated profession, far more so than today, and the school simply had few people period. The 1914 yearbook mentions that there were just five "boys" at the first meeting of the athletic association in 1913, out of 140 total students.  But later in the year, there were enough men on campus to start a men's basketball team, though the team only played local high schools the first season. The spring of 1914 saw the establishment of the first collegiate team, the baseball team, which was known as the "Normal Nine". The 1914 yearbook refers to them in the caption as the "Ex Tempore Base Ball Team".

Another important factor as to why the football team couldn't take root in 1914 beyond simple numbers was the lack of suitable playing field. In 1914, Kent did not have any dedicated football field anywhere in town. The local high school at the time (Kent High School...now known as Theodore Roosevelt High School) had a football team, but where, exactly, they played isn't totally clear. Early references mention a "Central field"--most likely the yard in front of the old Union or Central School on North Mantua Street--but no other mentions are made. If it was played in the front yard of Central School (now occupied by the current Central School building built in 1952-53), then it was played on a sloped field as that was never leveled or graded in any way. Hardly ideal for any team, but especially a college one. Kent State would finally get a dedicated football field by 1920, but did not have a gymnasium until 1925.

From the 1917 Chestnut Burr, page 147, showing a summer term baseball game on front campus on or near the site of Rockwell Hall. Merrill Hall can be seen in the background center with the original facade of the Auditorium Building (Cartwright Hall) on the right.

Early Kent State athletic events were played on front campus on and around where Rockwell Hall is now, but the fields seem have been very primitive and makeshift and I have, so far, only been able to find one picture of such an event, a 1916 summer term baseball game. The first dedicated football field in Kent opened in 1917 with the dedication of DePeyster Field at the corner of Crain and Highland Avenues (which still is an open field where pickup games are regularly held), behind the DePeyster School (current Kent City Schools administrative offices). It served as the home of Kent High School football through the 1922 season (the first year the school was called Roosevelt) until the opening of Bowers Field behind the new high school building, now Davey Elementary School.

The first football team on campus that played was actually a high school team. Kent State Normal College had a teacher training school on campus that included a high school starting in 1914. It was first known as the Kent Normal High School (or Kent State Normal High School) and later simply as Kent State High School, "State", or "the University School" locally (official name was the Kent State University School, which included the Kent State University High School). By 1917, the beginning of the year for the high school's first graduating seniors (class of 1918), the school fielded its first competitive football team, though there are references to them playing scrimmages in years prior. I know at least one of their games was played at DePeyster Field that season, so I have assumed most, if not all, of their home games were also played there.

Mantua Street

Here in Kent, one of our main north-south roads is Mantua Street, which is divided into north and south sections at West Main Street. The entire length of Mantua Street is also part of State Route 43. All but a short section of North Mantua Street is 4-5 lanes and the section that isn't (along with all of South Mantua Street) is two lanes going in one direction (south).

Every once and awhile, though, people look at a map and realize that Mantua Street doesn't actually lead one to Mantua (pronounced "MAN uh way"...don't ask me why, but it's a very old pronunciation!), a village to the northeast of Kent. OK, so why is it then called Mantua Street? And what about other roads in Kent that are clearly named for nearby towns but don't actually go to them? It's a matter of going back in time and realizing that the current setup for road routes isn't how they've always been.

The key to understanding the name "Mantua Street" is Diagonal Road, which is located just north of the Kent city limits. Diagonal Road is, as you may have guessed, a diagonal road. It's southern end is at State Route 43 less than a mile north of the Kent city limits. Diagonal Road's northern end is at Mantua Center Road, just a few hundred feet south of State Route 82 in Mantua Center, which is the center of Mantua Township. There's your "Mantua Street".

Today, Diagonal Road just appears to be a side street off 43 as you're heading north out of Kent, but up until the early part of the 20th century, instead of the intersection that exists today, the road heading out of Kent to the north had a fork in it. To the right, the road to Mantua, to the left, the road to Cleveland. Indeed, older maps of the area show the main road being Diagonal Road and Mantua Street with the part going to Cleveland as more of a side road rather than today's setup where the main road is 43. Only as the roads and the communities they went to developed more did the more traveled road become the road to Cleveland. Eventually a spur of the railroad was built in that area, so Diagonal Road was re-routed slightly and turns more to the west then it originally did to avoid crossing those tracks.

1874 map showing Kent and most of Franklin Township. Mantua Street/Diagonal Road can be seen as the diagonal line cutting across the center of the map. 

Close-up of the above map (left) and a modern view (right). Ravenna Road was also re-routed slightly (it is broken into two sections when it meets SR 43) because of the railroad building a new line in the 20th century. The settlement of Earlville was based on the railroad station that was located there. (Image on right from Google Earth)

There are still physical reminders of the original path that connected Diagonal Road and SR 43. Just south of the current Diagonal Road-SR 43 intersection is a house that has a row of very large trees in front of it all lined up. If you look at the direction of the line, though, it doesn't parallel SR 43; instead the line appears to be moving away from the road as you travel north. If you look at a map of the area now, you can draw a straight line from the main part of Diagonal Road south and those trees line up with that path.

SR 43 heading north. The line of trees in the center follows the original fork in the road, which connected with the rest of Diagonal Road.

Another point to understand is "Mantua" itself. When people say they're going to Mantua these days, they mean the village of Mantua, which is located in north central Portage County, along State Route 44. But in the early days, going to Mantua meant going to what we generally refer to now as "Mantua Township", the 25 square mile block that almost surrounds the village of Mantua.

Mantua village also wasn't known as "Mantua" until 1898, however. For most of the 19th century, it was known as "Mantua Station". Mantua Township is actually a classic example of how New England naming conventions were used in the Western Reserve. The township (some areas use "town" instead of "township") was Mantua, and then within the township were three hamlets or settlements: Mantua Center (intersection of SR 82 and Mantua Center Road), Mantua Corners (intersection of SR 82 and SR 44), and Mantua Station (now the village of Mantua). Mantua Station was founded in the late 1840s when a railroad line was built through northern Portage County, hence the "station" part of the name. It had a brief period of growth, but was never that big. Mantua Center was intended to be the main settlement of the township since it's at the physical center. That, however, never really happened because of growth at Mantua Corners (it being on a busier road, which is now SR 44) and Mantua Station. Mantua Center is where the township school was located (now listed on the National Register of Historic Places) and where the township hall is still located (part of the Mantua Center Historic District on the NRHP).

1874 map of most of Mantua Township, showing the three hamlets within the township: Mantua Center, Mantua Corners, and Mantua Station. Mantua Station is now the incorporated village of Mantua. Diagonal Road can be seen on the left (my grandma labeled it!) and SR 44 can be seen to the right of center, the road connecting Mantua Station and Mantua Corners. 

The same is true for roads in Kent like Middlebury Road and Akron Boulevard. Changes in road layouts, mostly for the sake of traffic, have removed the clearly visible reminders of why they were named as such, along with name changes. Middlebury was a settlement in what is now eastern Akron. Originally, it was a rival to Akron, but eventually Akron grew to the point that Middlebury was absorbed by Akron. Middlebury Road in Kent originally lined up with Northeast Avenue in Tallmadge and continued on to what is now Southwest Avenue (which becomes Eastland Avenue in Akron). In the early 1970s, the re-routing of SR 261 created the current intersection of Middlebury Road and Northeast Avenue and also shortened Cherry Street, which used to intersect with Middlebury and Northeast as a fork in the road.

1826 map of Portage County prior to the creation of Summit County. Middlebury can be seen near the bottom left (SW corner of Tallmadge Township) with Akron (which had just been established) just west of that in Portage Township. The road leading from Middlebury to the northeast is now Eastwood Avenue/Southwest Avenue, Northeast Avenue, and Middlebury Road, and even part of Mantua Street. The settlement labeled in Franklin Township is Carthage, which was located at the present-day intersection of Fairchild Avenue and N. Mantua Street (SR 43). 

Maps of the intersection of Middlebury Road and SR 261 (Northeast Avenue) in 1970 (top) and 2011 (below) from the Portage County Auditor's website showing the previous fork in the road  and how Middlebury Road and Northeast Avenue were connected. I added the labels. The current SR 261 was built around 1973.  The vertical dotted line is the border between Summit and Portage Counties and the horizontal line is the former boundary between Franklin and Brimfield Townships.

Akron Boulevard (and Majors Lane, which used to be Akron-Kent Boulevard) parallels the main water line that connects Lake Rockwell (Akron's main water supply located north of Kent) to Akron. That is why houses along Akron Boulevard and Majors Lane have such large front yards and long driveways. It is actually not that old of a road and has only existed since the late 1950s. While it appears like it could have originally lined up with Middlebury Road (and thus have gone to Akron), it is more likely it is named such because of the water line. Aerials from the 1950s show the road as a dead end near its current intersection with Middlebury. The road was connected to Middlebury sometime in the mid 1960s as more houses were built along it.

Middlebury Road also has physical reminders of its former route. The line of trees just west of the current intersection of Northeast Avenue (SR 261) and Middlebury follows the original route the road went. The area vacated by Middlebury and Cherry Street is now just a grassy area. Cherry Street was a veer to the right before angling northeast to its current location. The re-routing of 261 simply smoothed the curve out and removed the forks in the road, and broke the connection between Middlebury and Northeast, similar to Diagonal Road and Mantua Street.

So, if you ever see another road that looks like it's named for a town but doesn't seem to go there, don't assume that the current route is the way it's always been!

Dix Stadium

It's no secret that I love local history, but I also love history of sports, stadiums and arenas in particular. So it's of no surprise that I have studied the athletic facilities in this area, especially those at Kent State University. Thank goodness for the abundance of records available digitally that I can access, and also for the Kent State University Special Collections and Archives on the 12th floor of the library, where I spent quite a bit of time poring over old blueprints, athletic programs, and other documents!

Dix Stadium is the football stadium at Kent State University and is a place where I have spent a lot of time. My grandparents took my siblings and me to games as kids and I have attended games on my own every year that I have lived in Kent. Not only have I gone to dozens and dozens of games over the years, but I grew up all of a half mile from the stadium. Growing up, we could easily hear announcements from the stadium in our back yard. Even now, I drive past the stadium almost every day for various commutes to the southern and eastern parts of Portage County.

In just the past 10-15 years I've seen quite a few changes made to the stadium, but only recently have I really dug into its origins and early years. Some of what I've found is surprising, while other information is either confusing or not totally clear.

One of the great things about having my grandparents around is I can get a lot of first-hand information from them about the early years of the stadium. My grandpa is 89 and still has a very sharp memory. He served as the assistant dean the KSU College of Business until 1985 and was a season ticket holder for football and men's basketball for many years, so he spent a lot of time at Dix Stadium over the years until he was simply no longer able to come to games and stay comfortable.

Dix Stadium in 1969, with only the first few rows installed on the
new west stands
(Kent State University Libraries. Special Collections and Archives)

My grandpa was one of the 8,172 fans who were on hand for the very first game at Dix Stadium in 1969. At the time the stadium wasn't even completed yet. On the west ("home") stands, only 16 of 58 rows of seats had been installed and the locker rooms and press box were also not complete. In doing some research, there was apparently a construction accident earlier in the year that put work back several months. The stadium itself wasn't done until after the 1969 season, finished in either December 1969 or early 1970.

The most bizarre aspect of Dix Stadium is that it wasn't regarded as a new stadium, but rather as an "expansion and relocation" of the old Memorial Stadium. Memorial Stadium was located where the parking lot is for the KSU Student Center now. It was built in phases, the oldest of which opened in 1950, though the field had been used since 1941. Rather than just build an entirely new stadium in the late 60s, instead KSU dismantled all the main seating sections of Memorial Stadium and moved them about a mile down Summit Street to the new stadium site. The construction at Dix Stadium was to build a 12,772-seat grandstand on the west side of the field that had a new press box and locker rooms, along with 4 free-standing restroom facilities on each corner of the field. The seating sections from Memorial Stadium were used on the other three sides. Memorial Stadium's sideline grandstands became the new end zone seats at Dix Stadium while the 4 auxiliary bleacher sections became the new east stands, known mostly as the "visitor's section" (visitor fans no longer sit on that side of the stadium, however, as it is now the student section). Because Dix Stadium incorporated virtually all of Memorial Stadium's seats, obviously the university couldn't use the old stadium after the new stadium wasn't totally ready in time.

Memorial Stadium ca. 1968. All seating visible in this photo except the end zone bleachers
was moved to Dix Stadium in 1969. The buildings adjacent to the stadium from left are:
Bowman Hall, Lake-Olson Halls, and the Memorial Athletic & Convocation Center. This area is now
mainly occupied by the visitor parking lot for the Student Center
(Kent State University Libraries. Special Collections and Archives)

Top photo is of Memorial Stadium when it was new in 1950. Bottom photo is the same
grandstand in 2008, but now in the north end zone of Dix Stadium. The old press box was
removed in 2007.
(Top photo from 1951 Chestnut Burr; Kent State University Libraries. Special Collections and Archives)

Those Who Fail to Plan...

Document outlining the future plans for what is now
Dix Stadium. 

The most surprising aspect of Dix Stadium that I discovered were the original long-range plans for its development, most of which were never followed. The most disappointing one to me is the plan for the east side seating area. As I mentioned above, the east side seating, which up until about 2000 was where fans from the visiting team sat, was actually made up of four separate stands of wooden bleacher seats. In the original plans for Dix Stadium, those were considered temporary seats and were supposed to have been removed by 1973 and replaced with an 18-row section of concrete seating. Eventually, that would have been extended to 58 rows to duplicate the west side stands, bringing the seating capacity to around 35,000. The last phase of expansion would have been to add an upper deck on each side of the stadium, bringing total capacity to around 50,000. I would love to see an architectural rendering of what that would've looked like as it's hard to imagine an upper deck at Dix Stadium.

Those "temporary" wooden bleachers ended up being removed, but not for over 30 years. After the 2001 season they were condemned and torn down. During the 2002 season, that area was left empty before a new, smaller section of aluminium bleachers were built on that site for the student section.

Why weren't the plans followed? Well, for one, they were contingent on the team continuing to win, which didn't happen much. Even so, the first few years at Dix Stadium, KSU football did very well and was drawing decent crowds. The two largest crowds in stadium history were both set in 1973 (27,363 and 25,137), though the first recorded sellout didn't occur until 2010 (with a smaller seating capacity). After that, though, attendance was pretty low and crowds above 20,000 were rare.

East side stands (student section) with Field House in the rear in 2010.
The north stands can be seen on the left.

The other factor was likely the effects of the 1970 Kent State shootings, which occurred just after the stadium was initially completed. The shootings caused a decline in enrollment at KSU, which in turn led to budget cuts across the university, so it is of no surprise to me that stadium expansion or upgrades may have been one of those casualties. The only major athletic-related capital project in the 1970s was the controversial construction of the Gym Annex in 1977, and that was more related to physical education than to athletics.  The plans that did largely come to pass are that Dix Stadium is the center of an athletic complex, though not quite as large as the original plans, which included a new basketball arena in the field across Summit Street from the stadium. The field house, built in 1989, was mentioned in the 1970s plans as well as including other athletic fields. As of 2014, field hockey, women's soccer, softball, and indoor track all have facilities in and around Dix Stadium along with football.

Personally I wish KSU would look back on those original plans and use them in their current upgrades to the stadium. I don't think anyone expects the 50,000 seat plan to be followed, but the original idea to have the east side and west side look similar would be quite an improvement over the current setup. The east side stands built in 2003 just don't look like something you'd expect to see at a Division I FBS school. It's made worse by the fact that television cameras are located on the much larger west stands, so TV audiences see the very small east stands in the background (which seats just 4,104), so the stadium looks even smaller than it actually is. Originally, the cameras were located at the top of the east stands, so the west stands were in the background. Aesthetically it's also bizarre that you have a section with almost 13,000 opposite a section with just 4,000, while the north end zone section between them has almost 6,000 seats.

Dix?

Another interesting aspect of Dix Stadium is the name itself. The stadium is named for Robert C. Dix, who was a member of the Kent State Board of Trustees for some 30 years and also was editor of the Record-Courier newspaper. Locally, the Dix name is known for Dix Communications, which owns several media outlets, including the Record-Courier. Dix Communications is now partially headquartered in Kent while the rest of its headquarters is in Wooster, Ohio. Anyway, my aforementioned grandpa was part of a committee established in the early 1970s to name the stadium. When it opened in 1969, it was known as Memorial Stadium since it was regarded as an expansion and relocation of the existing Memorial Stadium, rather than a new facility.

My grandpa said there was no consensus in the committee (which included the likes of Jack Lambert) on who to name it for, but the various ideas floating around were all athletic-related such as former KSU players and coaches. He said no one even mentioned Robert C. Dix as an option. After the university announced that the stadium was to be named for Dix, my grandpa wrote a letter to the university letting them know to never again call him to be on such a committee that he felt was a complete waste of his time since they did not use any of the naming recommendations the committee gave. One of the suggestions from a committee member, though, was selling the naming rights to a company. While that is commonplace now, it wasn't the case in the early 1970s. In any case, the "Dix Stadium" name became official in 1973.

Just How Many?

Another sort of mystery or source of confusion for me is the actual seating capacity of the stadium. News articles from the time it opened list its capacity at 28,748. Later, the capacity was listed at 30,520 in media guides. This number is listed as the capacity until 2003 (it's even used in the 2002 guides even though the east stands weren't there the entire season). In 2003, with the opening of a newer and smaller east stand, the capacity was changed to 29,287, a loss of 1,233 seats. In 2008, after the south end zone seating was removed, the capacity was listed at a generic "25,000", until 2010, when the capacity suddenly "dropped" to 20,500. That was the official listed capacity until 2013, when, despite no new construction, the stadium got about 5,000 more seats to have a listed capacity of 25,319.

The one consistent number I have found is that the west stands have seating for 12,772. That number is present in the architectural plans and news reports from the late 1960s and in media guides over several decades, plus the west stands have had no major changes made beyond new paint. I could only find one game program that listed the seating capacities for each section, from the mid 1980s: 12,772 for the west stands, 5,976 for the original east stands, and 5,726 for both the north and south end zone sections (which were virtually identical). It also has a "Southeast Corner" section with 320 seats that isn't on the stadium seating diagram nor is it one I remember ever seeing in all my years going to games. All of that added together was where the 30,520 total comes from. The new east stands built in 2003 were listed in a 2008 media guide as having 4,104 seats, so that explains why capacity went down in 2003, though the new section is 1,872 seats smaller than its predecessor yet the overall stadium capacity only dropped by 1,233 even though there were no additional seats added elsewhere that I am aware of.

The 5,726 total for the north and south end zones is interesting because when Memorial Stadium opened in 1950, it consisted of one grandstand (which is now the Dix Stadium north end zone...pictured above) and some auxiliary bleachers on the opposite side of the field. The listed seating capacity for Memorial Stadium then was 5,600. Obviously that's an estimate, but it seems odd that the 1980s total for that section of seats is higher than the 1950 total without auxiliary seating in the count. Edit: turns out, the initial capacity for Memorial Stadium was actually about 7,000, which included the main grandstand and auxiliary seating, so the 5,726 for that section seems accurate!

If the totals from that 1980s game program are correct along with the 4,104 total for the current east stands, then the current seating capacity of Dix Stadium is 22,602. Now, there is a difference between seating capacity and total capacity too. Obviously since the stadium has a large plaza in the south end zone, smaller open areas on either side of the east stands, and virtually all of the seating is made of of bleachers, more people than the total seating capacity can be in the stadium, but still, I do wonder where the current 25,319 figure comes from and why there is so much discrepancy, especially in the last few years. Have they started counting seats that hadn't previously been counted? Has the university changed how they divide the bleacher seats in the various sections? Do they include the standing room only sections in the capacity? At this point, the latter is the only explanation I can find. The largest crowd since the most recent renovations was 24,221 in 2010. At the time, it was almost 4,000 over the listed capacity, but now it appears it was slightly below the listed capacity even though no changes to the seating have been made between 2008 and now. That game, however, was the first official sellout for Kent State football at Dix Stadium.

Location, Location, Location

The other aspect of Dix Stadium's history I've always wondered about is why the stadium was built where it is. In studying the contemporary news stories, there aren't any specific reasons given by those who were responsible for the stadium's development.  Based on reading those stories and what I know about developments that were going on around it at the time, though, I can make a fairly educated guess.

Dix Stadium in 1970. The rest of campus can be seen in the upper
right corner of the picture
(Kent State University Libraries. Special Collections and Archives)

First, the reason they needed to move the stadium away from the Memorial Stadium site was due to the growth of campus in the 1950s. When the athletic fields that later became Memorial Stadium were built, that was the edge of campus. By 1964, there were several more buildings and campus was starting to "pass" Memorial Stadium to the point that it was becoming more central to the campus instead of the edge. University officials wanted to build a new University Center (library and student center), and that location seemed to be best geographically based on the how campus was at the time and the long-range plans.

OK, but why did they choose a site that was, at the time, off-campus? That specific reason is never mentioned, but my guesses have to do first with cars. A big part of the Dix Stadium project was the parking lot for a few thousand cars, so they needed a very large area. The Dix Stadium site is about a mile from the edge of campus (at that time), though today it doesn't seem nearly as far as it did in 1969 as campus has expanded further east. I don't consider Dix Stadium to be "off-campus". It has plenty of space not only for ample parking, but has allowed for the other athletic facilities to be built there. The university did want an athletic complex at that site in time.

Another reason that may have played into the decision to locate there specifically was the proximity to what is now State Route 261. In the late 1960s, plans were in place to make what is now SR 261 a 4-lane limited access freeway that would have had an exit at Summit right near the stadium site (at the time, SR 261 entered Kent via Cherry Street, then followed South Water Street and SR 43 north to downtown Kent where it ended at the intersection of Main and Water Streets). The portion of 261 now that runs north-south from SR 59 to just past Summit Street was originally going to be part of a divided 4-lane limited access highway SR 435 going between SR 14 in the north and I-76 in the south. 261 was supposed to tie in to SR 435 just south of Summit. The overall project was only partially realized with 261 being built as a divided highway from just south of Summit to just east of the Kent-Tallmadge border, completed in the early 1970s. The property lines, though, still reflect where the on-ramps and interchanges would have been. It makes sense that having the stadium and its huge parking lot directly accessible to the highways would have been preferable, especially in the late 60s when the general planning mindset favored more highway construction.

1968 Land Use and Thoroughfare Plan for Kent and Franklin Township. I added a few labels.
Of these plans, part of SR 261 was built (without any highway interchanges) and Haymaker
Parkway, which can be seen on the left side. 435 was never built, though part of SR 261 follows
the SR 435 route between Summit Street and SR 59. 

Property map of the Dix Stadium area today. The location of the planned interchange of what would have been SRs 261 and 435 and the exit ramp to Summit Street (all visible in the bottom right of the picture above) can still be seen in the property lines even though the project was abandoned years ago.
(Portage County Auditor)

I haven't really touched on all the more recent changes made in 2007 and 2008, or the upcoming plans for the stadium and the entire athletic complex. To see more, be sure to visit www.ksubuildingchampions.com.

The Wagon Wheel myth

Locally, the big college rivalry is between Kent State University and The University of Akron. Both schools are roughly the same size and since they're only about 10 miles apart, it's pretty natural that not only would there be a rivalry, but it would something that is regularly contested in sports. Like most rivalries, the biggest games are the football and men's basketball. The rivalry also features a trophy that goes to the winner of that year's football game. For Kent State and Akron, that trophy is an old wagon wheel pained blue and gold, which are the school colors for both schools. While the trophy itself continues to be held by the team that wins that year's football game, since 2011, the Wagon Wheel Challenge is held involving all sports. The background of the actual Wagon Wheel, though, is another example of folk history that has become accepted as truth despite having no real basis.

Wagon Wheel Challenge logo showing the current point total for each school. Points are from wins in head-to-head competition between the two schools. In addition to winning the actual Wagon Wheel trophy in 2011 and 2012, KSU also won the challenges each year.

The Kent State-Akron football rivalry was first held in 1923, a 32-0 Akron win, though it was not a regularly held contest at first. No games were played between the two schools from 1924 until 1928. It became an annual game from 1928 through the 1936 game, all of which were Akron wins except a scoreless tie in 1932. The game took another hiatus from 1937 until 1940. After one more more Akron win, Kent finally broke through in 1942 with a 23-7 win. World War II would be the next interruption for the series from 1943 through the 1945 season as neither school fielded a football team during those years, which was the case for many other schools across the country. The game resumed in 1946, which is the first year the Wagon Wheel was contested. Kent State went on a dominating run from then on, including a 31-0 win in 1948, a 47-0 win in 1949, a 48-7 win in 1951, and a 54-19 win in 1953 culminated by a 58-18 win in 1954. After that game, which was Kent State's 10th consecutive win over the Zips, the series was discontinued as being noncompetitive. It would not be played again until 1972, which resulted in a 13-13 tie. After that, it was played in 1974, 1979, and 1981 and has been played every year since the 1983 game, with the exception of 1991. Akron joining the Mid-American Conference in 1992 made the game a conference game again for the first time since 1950, when both teams were members of the Ohio Athletic Conference.

The Wagon Wheel in 2012 after Kent State won 35-24 in Kent.
Photo is originally from the Akron Beacon Journal and was also used
on Cleveland.com.

The Wagon Wheel trophy was the idea of Dr. Raymond Manchester at Kent State, who was the dean of men during the 1940s. How or where he got the wheel is not recorded, but he had it in 1945 and suggested it be used as a trophy between the schools. He concocted a myth about the wheel's history connecting it to both John R. Buchtel (pronounced BOOK tul), the namesake for the original name of The University of Akron (Buchtel College), and Kent State, near where the wheel was reportedly found in 1902, to make it something that both schools would want to play for.

The legend passed around in the newspapers and media guides for both schools is that the wheel was part of a wagon of John R. Buchtel, who was searching for a site for a new school. While in Kent around 1870 near the future site of Kent State University, the wagon got stuck in the mud and the horses pulled it apart as they tried to break free. One of the wheels got buried in the mud and was found in 1902 during construction of a pipeline or a building (different accounts use one or the other). Eventually, Buchtel chose Akron as the site for the school, known as Buchtel College, which eventually became The University of Akron. An "account" of the story from the 1955 KSU yearbook Chestnut Burr states that Buchtel chose Akron right after the horses broke his wagon in the mud. In any account, that's the basic legend and while there are some real people (John R. Buchtel) and places (Akron and Kent), the rest of the story fails miserably when put up against actual history.

Explanation of the wheel from the 1955 Chestnut Burr at Kent State, the year after the rivalry was ended until 1972.

First is the role of John R. Buchtel in the founding of the University of Akron. Yes, it is true that the school originally was named after him. What is not true is that the decision of what town to put the college was Buchtel's to make nor is it true that it was Buchtel's school. The University of Akron was founded in 1870 and was first known as Buchtel College, because of a large monetary gift from Buchtel. According to the 1908 Centennial History of Summit County, Ohio, initially, the Universalist convention wanted to name the school "Murray Centennial College" or "Buchtel Universalist College." When Buchtel was asked what his opinion was, he said: "name it what you like. The college is yours, not mine. It shall have my hearty support. If prospered, I expect to give it one hundred thousand dollars." The account continues: "Then it was unanimously voted to name the child of the Ohio Universalist convention Buchtel College, in honor of the man who financially most loyally aided it in its infancy."(pp. 203-204) The University of Akron's own history page also states "The Universalist Church founded Buchtel College, the forerunner of The University of Akron, in 1870."

John R. Buchtel. One of the high
schools in Akron is also named for him

So, the school was created by the Ohio Universalist convention, not Buchtel, and was associated with the Universalists until 1913, when the school was sold to the city of Akron. It became a state university in 1968. Buchtel did have ties to Kent as he was a member of the Kent Universalist congregation, founded in 1866, which, for a time, was the closest Universalist congregation. Akron had previously been home to a Universalist congregation, but it closed in 1853 and a new Akron congregation wasn't established until 1872 when the college opened. That means he was certainly in Kent multiple times during this time period and he most definitely had a horse-drawn carriage.

In their search to locate this new college, the Universalists did consider Kent, along with some other cities in the state (Mt. Gilead in particular and initially Oxford, home of Miami University). The site in Kent offered was the eventual site of the original campus (what is known as Front Campus) at Kent State University, the former William S. Kent farm at Lincoln and Main. While Kent had financial backing to secure the school, "there was a strong prejudice on account of its reputation of unhealthfulness" (Centennial History of Summit County, Ohio, p. 202) which basically eliminated Kent as a possibility. The convention nearly put the school in Mt. Gilead (more centrally located in Ohio) as they had investigated Akron as a site but with "unsatisfactory results." Later, several Akron businessmen met together and convinced the actual man in charge, financial secretary Rev. H.L. Miller, to come back to Akron and "re-investigate." The second visit was much better than the first as there was an organized push to get subscribers. Buchtel became a strong supporter of putting the school in his hometown and donated the initial $6,000 for the $60,000 building fund and $2,500 for the endowment.

So, Buchtel clearly did not establish the school himself (though he is sometimes referred as the "founder" and clearly played a large role in the establishment of it), nor did he go out and search for a host community. Again, it was not his decision and he clearly advocated for Akron to host the new school.

Statue of John R. Buchtel on the campus of The University of Akron that describes him as the
"Founder" of Buchtel College (photo from Wikipedia)

Kent's other connection to the founding of Buchtel College is that the person who first proposed the Ohio Universalist convention establish a school was Rev. Andrew Willson, who was the pastor of the Kent congregation at that time and also served as the chairman of the convention's Committee on Education. He first presented the plan in 1867 in Mt. Gilead and again in 1868 at Dayton. Willson, of course, favored putting the school in Kent, but after it was apparent that Kent would not be chosen, he supported Akron as the site for the new school.

The other issue in the story is where the wheel came from and if that's true. 1902 for the discovery of the wheel seems plausible at the very least. Kent had a municipal water system by the late 19th century, so a pipe could've been constructed, or a building, depending on exactly where it was found. There really wasn't a whole lot in the area where campus is now even in 1902, but an old wagon wheel buried in the mud is entirely possible. Heck, it could've very well been John R. Buchtel's own wagon, but he certainly wasn't scouting a site for the Universalist college.

In conclusion, while the evidence does not conclusively rule out the possibility that the Wagon Wheel was part of John R. Buchtel's carriage, it seems to indicate it's most likely not his, though. The evidence certainly eliminates the possibility that even if it did happen to be from Buchtel's carriage, it certainly wasn't part of him scouting for a site for a school in Kent and it had absolutely no bearing on the college being located in Akron. What is true, though, is that the histories of Kent State University and The University of Akron do have connections, which is hardly surprising considering how close they are to one another. What is now Kent State University could very well have started off much earlier as a Universalist college. Who knows, if history had been different, maybe the rivalry would be between The University of Kent and Akron State University?

School Colors

I published this on the Kent Patch back in January 2012 and figured I should post it here since I don't really blog there anymore, and it was on my mind recently when I read through a game program at the KSU football game yesterday. Anything I have added that wasn't part of the original post will be in italics.

Ever wondered why Kent State University's school colors are Navy Blue and Gold? Well, if you go to the university's website or one their athletic media guides, you will likely find the following story: the school colors were originally purple and orange in the charter that established Kent State Normal School. Later, the basketball team had their uniforms taken to a cleaner and the hot water faded the purple to blue and the orange to gold. The student body liked the new colors and voted to change them. Sounds simple enough, but is that the whole story? Is it even close?

Growing up in Kent, I often heard the oversimplified version of how Kent got the university and Ravenna got the county seat. Basically, it was that Ravenna was given the choice of being the county seat or having the university and they chose the county seat with Kent getting the university.

Where that story came from is beyond me, because the two events had absolutely nothing to do with each other and happened about 100 years apart. Ravenna was named the county seat in 1807 and Kent won the state normal school (which became Kent State University) in 1910. Both Kent and Ravenna competed for the county seat (via their original proprietors) and the normal school. As further proof that Ravenna's status as county seat had nothing to do with the location of the state normal school is the fact that Bowling Green, Ohio, is the county seat of Wood County. It was also chosen as the site for the state normal school (for northwestern Ohio) in 1910.

What does that have to do with the school colors for KSU? It just goes to show how "folk history" often simplifies and puts two facts together that were never meant to be together and draws conclusions from them or creates a new story all together.

The first item I would like to see but haven't had a chance is the actual charter document. According to the "faded colors" story, the original school colors of orange and purple are listed as such in the school's charter. I have not been able to track that actual document down.  That could at least verify that the colors were orange and purple at one point. (After publishing this post, I found an FAQ page from Kent State's Special Collections and Archives that stated: "The founding of Kent State University was a gradual progression encompassing several years; there is no evidence of an official charter." That page has since been changed and has no mention of the school colors or the charter and searches for anything related to the university charter come up empty. It is worth noting that Bowling Green State University, Kent's sister school founded on the same bill in 1910, states their colors of orange and brown were suggested by a professor who recommended them to the board of trustees. If BG didn't have their school colors written into their alleged charter, why would Kent?) 

What I have been able to track down thus far, however, lists not purple and orange as the original school colors, but blue and orange. One of the great resources available from Kent State to study their own history is the digitized library of every yearbook published by the university.

From 1914-1985 (except 1920), KSU published a yearbook that was called the Chestnut Burr. Not only is every year available online, but it's also digitally indexed, so searching for keywords within one book or across all of them is very easy. I've referenced old yearbooks before because they are very valuable tools in research. Sometimes they directly say something that is a fact you are looking for. Other times, there are references to events or people that prove a certain fact. Many other times they have pictures that can tell us a lot about an event, building, group or person.

Being contemporary sources of the period, they also offer us glimpses into the way things were; how people dressed, how they thought, what was considered humorous, what was considered important, etc. For this, we have some direct evidence for orange and blue as the school colors.

Both the 1914 (first yearbook) and 1915 books make direct references to the school colors as orange and blue. The 1914 yearbook has a page that says "School Colors: Orange and Blue" at the bottom, and later has a page entitled "Our School Song" which references "her orange and blue." The 1915 yearbook has a school song "The Orange and Blue" on a page. The earliest reference to blue and gold as school colors in the Chestnut Burr is the 1921 edition, which has a picture and description of the "Blue and Gold Debate Club." (In later views of the yearbooks, I found an earlier mention of blue and gold as the school colors as part of a poem. Page 87 of the 1916 yearbook has a line that says "To Normal, her blue and gold." The next year, though, there is another clear reference to the colors as blue and orange, showing how both gold and orange were apparently being interchanged. There are multiple references in the early 1920s of the athletic teams being referred to as the "Blue and Gold" as well.)

1914 Kent State yearbook page clearly showing the school colors to be orange and blue, not purple.

Page also from the 1914 yearbook with a school song mentioning orange and blue as the colors.

Page from the 1915 Chestnut Burr with another song mentioning the school colors of orange and blue. "Orange" is highlighted because it was a search term I was looking for when I searced the online Chestnut Burrs.

But where did orange and blue come from? According to the first history of Kent State, The Years of Youth, written in 1960 by Phillip Shriver, the orange and blue originated from the university's first president John McGilvrey. He cites a March 13, 1913, article in the old Kent Courier and writes that McGilvrey "determined" that the school's colors would be orange and blue. Shriver credits McGilvrey being a "staunch Illini," though even in his own book, he also writes that McGilvrey was from Indiana and while he was on the faculty at the University of Illinois for a time, it was only for three years. He did not attend school there (McGilvrey had degrees from what is now Indiana State University and Indiana University, so if anything he's a Hoosier!). McGilvrey also served twice as a principal for two high schools in Illinois and was at what is now Western Illinois University just prior to coming to Kent.

So, is it a definite that the school colors of orange and blue were inspired by the University of Illinois? Shriver seems to think so, but the connection doesn't seem so obvious to me. It's definitely possible. In doing further reading, the first four faculty hires by McGilvrey were all from the state of Illinois, three of whom had degrees from the University of Illinois. So there was definitely some connection with the University of Illinois at Kent State in those early days. Shriver states that blue and gold were used interchangeably with the orange and blue for a period (doesn't appear to be very long) before blue and gold officially won out in 1925 by virtue of a committee. No mention is made of any vote from the student body, nor any mention of faded uniforms. There is also no given reason as to why blue and gold were selected or any significance behind them.

In looking at the difference between the color gold and orange, it's easy to see how they could be used interchangeably. Often times today we use yellow instead of gold, but gold as a color (not a metal) is much darker than yellow and is actually a yellow-orange blend. Was it a matter of fading? Perhaps, but it could also just be a matter of general use.

When the committee made the colors official, they were royal blue and gold, but now are shades of Navy blue and gold. Today, the colors are officially "Kent State blue" (Pantone 281; color hex #003876) and "Kent State gold" (Pantone 124, color hex #f0b310). Black is listed as a complimentary color.

 Of note, Kent State is one of three schools in the Mid-American Conference that use blue and gold as school colors, the other two being the University of Toledo and arch-rival the University of Akron. All three schools use slightly different shades of blue and gold. For instance, Akron uses a slightly darker shade of blue and a darker, more metallic gold. On sports uniforms, the shade of metallic gold looks almost tan. Toledo uses more of a yellow ("Rocket Gold") with a shade of midnight blue known as "Tower Blue." As far as fan support goes, Kent State has emphasized the "gold" more as the main color ("Get your gold on!"), while Akron seems to emphasize the blue more or white. Toledo tends to use the blue and gold pretty evenly.

I'm planning to search the archives of the Record-Courier here in Kent soon to go over some of the articles from the old Kent Courier that Shriver mentions in his book as sources. Hopefully they will have some additional information that can give me a little better understanding of where the colors came from. UPDATE, 10/15/13: In searching the archives of the Record-Courier, I found a mention of the school colors in 1913, but the date of the article was 2 months after the citation given by Shriver. The article, which covers several developments related to the school, simply states that the colors are blue and orange. That's it. No reasoning is given for them or who even made the suggestion. It was simply a matter of business.

Ravenna State University?

Most people who are familiar with the history of Kent State University are aware that the state of Ohio awarded Kent with what was known as a "normal school" (a school to train teachers) in 1910.  They also are familiar with the somewhat embellished story of how local leaders here in Kent were able to convince the commission that was sent from Columbus to scout various sites in both northwestern and northeastern Ohio for two new normal schools that Kent was the best spot and how the Kent visit was nearly a total disaster.  Not only did the weather not cooperate in the least, but the local welcoming committee didn't meet the search commission at the right place (the train station downtown) believing that the commissioners would be arriving by car.  Only a wonderful blue gill dinner at the Frank Merrill home in Twin Lakes saved the day, enough that Kent eventually won the normal school which later became Kent State University.  The next stop for the commission was Ravenna, where they were expected by lunchtime but arrived about three hours late.  It's most often presented like the committee in Ravenna knew their bid was doomed and that Kent would win.  But was Ravenna really ever a major consideration for the normal school?  And was it a competition exclusively between Kent and Ravenna?

Locally, many people are aware that Ravenna was one of the cities that tried to get the normal school along with Kent, but for some reason, many also believe that it was a choice the state made only between Kent and Ravenna.  This has evolved into an even more bizarre myth that Ravenna was given a choice between having the county seat and the university and chose the county seat so Kent got the university.  Where that story came from I have no idea, but it's pure folk history (and false).  Ravenna and what would later become Kent did compete for the honor of being the county seat when Portage County was formed, but that was in 1807, over 100 years before the state of Ohio passed the Lowry Bill to establish two new normal schools in northern Ohio.  In 1807, neither city was much of anything in terms of buildings or a city layout.  Ravenna won because its founder, Benjamin Tappan, was able to convince the powers that be to give his settlement the county seat (on his land, which is now downtown Ravenna) over what had apparently been the favored location in Franklin Township, owned by Aaron Olmstead.  Had Olmstead's land been chosen, the county seat would've been located about where Standing Rock cemetery is today in northern Kent along SR 43, and Kent itself likely would've been located further north that it is.  As it turned out, Olmstead died before the deal could be worked out and his heirs used the land for other purposes, so the county seat went to Ravenna.

Front page of the Ravenna Republican,
September 22, 1910

On to the normal school.  The first important fact to know is that the search for the normal school site in northeastern Ohio included far more than just Kent and Ravenna.  Over 40 communities statewide applied for consideration for one of the two schools.  In northeastern Ohio, Kent and Ravenna were just two among a group that included Ashtabula, Canton, Chagrin Falls, Columbiana, East Liverpool, Geneva, Hubbard, Hudson, Lorain, Massillon, Medina, Poland, Salem, Seville, Urichsville, Wadsworth, Warren, and Youngstown.  Eventually the commission narrowed the list down based on a number of criteria like central location in the region, access to railroads, etc.  They then heard presentations from each candidate city and made further cuts.  After those two "rounds", the commission visited the remaining candidate cities, which totaled 14 for northeastern Ohio.  Both Kent and Ravenna made those first cuts as both cities shared a central location in the region and rail connections.  Also included were Wadsworth, Medina, Hudson, Salem, Warren, Poland, Youngstown, Ashtabula, Geneva, Chagrin Falls, Canton, and Massillon.

Front page story from the Ravenna Republican, September 29, 1910

After the commission narrowed down the list, they started making their official visits.  Each community's first visit was highly planned and announced ahead of time.  I already mentioned Kent's first visit, which was plagued by bad weather and poor communication and was preceded by a visit to Wadsworth.  Most of the details about the time the commission spent in Kent are accurate as far as I can tell.  They did arrive without anyone to greet them; the weather was miserable, and they did go to a dinner at the Frank Merrill home in Twin Lakes, which was on the "road to Ravenna" (which is technically correct; it's just the "road to Ravenna" between Ravenna and Hudson, not Kent and Ravenna).  It is also true that they were originally expected around lunchtime and arrived later in the afternoon.  However, if the Ravenna committee felt their bid was dead-on-arrival, they certainly didn't let on in the press.  The Ravenna Republican makes no mention of the commissioners being late and they felt like the Ravenna committee showed off what they needed to and that it was received well.  The feeling the bid may have been doomed from the start is expressed in Philip Shriver's 1960 history of Kent State, The Years of Youth, but the footnote says it was from an interview in 1958, so 48 years later and a lot of time to put hindsight into the view.  Further, a few months later, the commissioners made surprise visits to the same cities, including Ravenna.  I hardly think they would've made a second visit to Ravenna if they weren't still considering it as a site.  Shriver notes that most of the cities the commissioners visited felt confident about their respective bids.  Hudson in particular, which had an entire campus (the former campus of Western Reserve College and current campus of Western Reserve Academy) ready and waiting, felt they had a strong case for the new school.  The positive feelings of Salem, Warren, Chagrin Falls, Hudson, Canton, and Wadsworth (as expressed trough their newspapers) are also recorded.

By the time of the decision, the front runners weren't exclusively Kent and Ravenna, however.  For whatever reasons, the front runners were seen, at least in the media, as Kent, Warren, and Wadsworth.  Ravenna certainly believed they were still in the running as a newspaper article seems to suggest, as did Hudson, but that may have just been pure optimism on the part of the newspaper.  And remember, newspapers in those days were a lot more editorial than papers today and often acted as the mouthpiece for an entire town or a specific family or group within a town.

Ravenna Republican front page,
November 24, 1910

Obviously, Kent won the normal school since Kent State University exists today.  This was after those visits by the commission (the 2nd visit being much better than the first for Kent), and final hearings in late November 1910.  The news of Kent getting the normal school came at the end of November and was met with disappointment in Ravenna, but still the Republican offered Ravenna's "heartiest congratulations" and found some solace that the school would be located in Portage County.

Two sites were presented to the commission in Ravenna (2 sites were also presented in Kent and both of them are now part of the KSU campus).  The first was the Beebe farm, which straddled the line between Ravenna and Ravenna Township.  Today, that area is roughly bordered by Washington Avenue, North Walnut Street, Freedom Street (SR 88) and the railroad. It's largely residential, but includes Carlin Elementary School on Washington Avenue and Bethel Baptist Church on Coolman Avenue.  The other site was known as "Bunker Hill" in the southeastern part of town.  I have not been able to pinpoint exactly where that was as it is a name that was apparently not all that common (not on any period maps) and certainly isn't used today.  All I can narrow it down to is in the part of Ravenna south of Main Street and east of Chestnut Street, probably a few blocks out of downtown.  It is apparent that the commission wanted, or at least preferred, a site that was on a hill as both sites in Ravenna were on a hill (or at least purported to be) and the main site in Kent, where KSU's original front campus is now located, is a hill (over 60 feet above Main Street and about 100 feet above downtown).  Sites in other towns mentioned also indicate that hilly sites were offered.  Indeed, the KSU history indicates that one of the primary features of the Kent site that really attracted the commissioners was the hill (some views below).  Obviously in northwestern Ohio, hills are hard to come by, so it doesn't seem like it was a priority or preference there (Bowling Green State University has no hills anywhere on its campus and the entire town is roughly the same elevation).  Below is a map of Ravenna that has the former Beebe farm outlined.  Had this been selected, it would be the nucleus of what would more than likely be called "Ravenna State University".  However, as we can see, there was a more likely possibility of a "Warren State" or "Wadsworth State" than a "Ravenna State University".

View Ravenna Normal School locations in a larger map

View of Kent from N. Mantua Street looking east showing the relative height of the KSU campus in the background (water towers on the right, pitched roof building just to the left of the crane) over downtown Kent.  

View looking northwest from the KSU campus in 1919, similar to the view the commissioners would've seen in 1910
(image from Kent State University Special Collections & Archives)

View looking west over Kent from the KSU campus, similar to the view the commissioners would've seen in 1910
(image from Kent State University Special Collections & Archives)

Giving a Second Look

I had one of those unexpected history moments this past week where looking closely at a photo made me realize it wasn't from the time period and event I (and seemingly everyone else) thought it was.  As fun as those can be, the search for answers (and ultimately finding them) was the most fun.  Now, I'm left with the question of exactly when one of the photos was taken.

This first picture was a photo I had seen many times online and in print.  It was thought to be of the great flood of 1913.  The flood in Kent was part of a larger flood across the state over several days at the end of March.  Virtually every city in the state has some kind of story related to that flood.  Over 100 people each died in Dayton and Columbus because of the flooding in those respective cities among countless losses of property all over Ohio, including the dynamiting of several old Ohio & Erie canal locks in downtown Akron.  The damage in Kent was mostly restricted to areas right along the river, helped in no small part by the fact that through downtown, the Cuyahoga River is around 40 feet below street level.  The Baltimore & Ohio tracks (known locally as the "lower tracks" because of how they pass through downtown) suffered the most damage simply because they are closer to the river.  The stone arch dam, built in 1836, suffered severe damage and the adjoining lock was pretty much totally destroyed (though by then it had long been bricked over).  The dam would eventually be repaired in 1925, but only after a long debate over whether it should be removed since it no longer served a purpose for the canal or industry (in addition to the adjacent canal lock, the dam also fed a mill race on the opposite side of the river that initially served the old Kent Flour Mill near Stow Street).

Photo posted by Henry Halem; from the collection of the Kent Historical Society

Now, at first glance, this seems to be a photo of that flood.  I have seen this photo many times in books and online and never gave it a second thought about its timing.  Then, a few days ago, a friend of mine posted a photo in the possession of Kent State University's Special Collections and Archives that is from virtually the same angle and is also of a flood.  He and I both assumed it was simply another photo of the same event since it also featured flooding and shared the vantage point of the photo above.

Photo from the Kent State University Special Collections and Archives

Again, at first glance, these seem to be photos of the same event.  When I first saw this, I thought briefly that it was simply an untouched version of the previous photo, since the first picture is clearer.  Then I thought it must be a picture from a little later since the water level in the bottom picture is higher than in the first picture.  But then I looked more carefully at the first photo and noticed some big differences; differences that give an idea of when each picture was taken and that they weren't THAT close together.

The first that jumped out to me was the absence in the top picture of the large tower just to the right of center in the bottom picture.  This was a 150-foot flagpole (which included a bell) that was built in late 1895 on the site of the current gazebo downtown.  It stood until sometime in the 1910s and is often in the background of photos taken of downtown during its existence.  Next I noticed that the trees along the riverbank at the bottom of each picture were noticeably larger in the bottom picture than they were in the top picture.  The third major thing I noticed was the mill on the far left of the picture (and adjacent smokestack) was also absent in the first picture.

Now, with those obvious differences clearly visible, I still had to do a little digging and some more visual inventigative work to determine A) which (if either) photo was of the 1913 flood, and B) when the top photo  was taken since it was definitely not 1913.  I found a few clues in three Kent history books I have that allowed me to say with almost certainty that the bottom picture is of the 1913 flood and the top picture is probably sometime in the 1880s for a flood that is not mentioned.

The most detailed history of Kent ever written is the 1932 History of Kent by historian Karl Grismer.  He mentions three major floods for Kent: 1832, 1904, and 1913.  At first I thought the top picture was possibly the from the 1904 flood, but the absence of both the mill and the flagpole eliminate that since both were also there by 1904.  It's definitely not from 1832 since there wouldn't be clear photographs from then not to mention that where downtown Kent is now wasn't developed until circa 1836-37.  The large mill building seen in the bottom picture was built in 1890.  At that point, I was looking pretty carefully at the top picture to see if there were other details I could find.

The first additional detail I could find was the retaining wall that separates the upper tracks from the lower tracks is simply the natural rock cut away.  In the bottom picture, that has been covered with large bricks (still there today).  In a book I have called Images of Kent by Michelle Wardle, I found two photos taken of downtown in the 1880s that show that same rugged drop (as opposed to the brick wall), as well as the absence of the mill (and obviously the flagpole).  The pictures are dated in the captions as "1880s".  From that, I could definitely date the top picture as being from the 1880s at least.

Even with that, I still couldn't date the top photo or totally confirm that the bottom photo was, in fact, from the 1913 flood (instead of the 1904 flood).  Since the mill and flagpole were also present in 1904, I needed something else to give me more clues.  I looked at Roger Di Paolo's book Rooted in Kent, which is a compilation of many of his more recent Portage Pathways articles on Kent history.  I was looking to see if there was a larger version of the top pic so I could possibly see more detail.  Well, instead of seeing more detail on the picture, I found mention of a building that could help me date it.  From 1884-1905, there was a small building along the lower tracks immediately south of the Main Street bridge (accessible via a staircase from the bridge) known as the "boxcar depot" since it was a depot station for those tracks (Baltimore & Ohio or B & O) made from an old boxcar.  When I looked at the top photo again, sure enough, there it was right adjacent to the bridge.  When I downloaded the full-sized photo from Henry Halem's Facebook page, I could see the boxcar depot even clearer.  In the lower picture, there isn't anything in that area at all besides the staircase, which was there much longer than the depot was (a new and nicer depot for the B & O further down the tracks opened in 1905).

I was able to see several other photos from the 1913 flood, all of which match the bottom picture with certain background details like the flagpole, absence of the "boxcar depot", and presence of the mill.  As for the top photo, it is of a flood that is not mentioned in Grismer's history.  It was taken during or after 1884, but before the construction of the mill's prominent grain elevator in 1890.  So, in other words, sometime in the mid-to-late 1880s.

It just goes to show how valuable photos are in studying history and even more so how valuable dating them is!  This is why I like to get pictures around town (especially as things are changing) and I try to make sure my digital camera's date and time are set correctly.  It also goes to show the value of looking for details.  You never know what you're going to find!

UPDATE: February 2, 2012
I found a picture of the Kent Opera House, which is visible in the left backgrounds of both pictures.  It was built between May and November of 1889, which reduces the time frame of the top picture to about a year.  The fact it is in the picture and the mill is not tells us the picture was taken sometime after enough construction of the Opera House was done so that it was visible and before any visible construction began on the mill expansion.  If construction started in May, I would guess based on how it looks in the top picture that this picture was taken very close to its completion if not after.  If I had to pick a date based on what I know, I would say this is probably sometime in the early spring of 1890 since there are also visible leaves in the trees along the river.  Even today, the Cuyahoga gets very high from spring rains and snow melt in March and April (other times too).  The fact that it's not mentioned in the detailed History of Kent makes me believe it wasn't that big of a deal when it happened and if it were just another typical spring flood, that's what it would be.