Frank Vittor was the sculptor of this memorial, in which Victory is striding forward with a laurel crown to honor the people of Braddock who served in the First World War. It was installed in front of the Braddock library in 1923, and from this angle it looks almost brand new.
The base of the monument had six bronze panels with the names of all who served, including this dedication panel with the names of the dead.
These pictures are very large, so all the names will be legible if you enlarge the photograph.
We suppose the names between Hurley and Marx were melted down into cheap booze. Old Pa Pitt has always wondered what scrap-metal dealers think when a man in a battered pickup truck rolls up with a big chunk of names in bronze. Apparently they think, “Well, he certainly must have come by this honestly.”
The Eighteenth Ward includes all of Allentown, Beltzhoover, and Bon Air, as well as part of Mount Washington. These memorials stand at the corner of Warrington and Estella Avenues. Above: the people who served in World War I, with hundreds of names. Below, the ones who served in World War II, with even more names. The pictures are very big, so if you enlarge them most of the names should be readable.
The Brookline war memorial sits in a little triangular park formed by the curve of Brookline Boulevard meeting Chelton Avenue and Queensboro Avenue. The cannon is placed in position to repel invaders from Dormont and Beechview.
Instead of a heroic soldier, or—as in more than one First World War memorial—a baffled and scared soldier, we have a shiny plaque with a horse all ready for a rider. This strikes old Pa Pitt as a real soldier’s monument. A member of Troop H would remember the horses above all as what distinguished a cavalry unit. He would look at this relief and feel immediately that he was the soldier who was meant to mount that horse. In a way, the monument also serves as a memorial to the passing away of the horse as an important factor in military operations.
Since old Pa Pitt has made it a rule to record all the names on every war memorial he photographs, this picture is huge—about 50 megapixels. If you enlarge it, all the names should be legible, from Abbott to Zorn.
Benjamin Henry Latrobe, much more famous for his work on the United States Capitol, was Pittsburgh’s first resident professional architect. This is his only remaining work here, and the only original 1814 building left from the Allegheny Arsenal.
This plaque was originally on the gatehouse to the Arsenal grounds.
A memorial put up by the Daughters of 1812 appears to have had a bronze relief, probably stolen many years ago.
The Arsenal is most famous in history for exploding during the Civil War, killing dozens of the workers, many of whom were children. We note that the building where the powder was stored did not explode—an indication, perhaps, that the architect knew his business.
DESIGNED BY BENJAMIN H. LATROBE; BUILT BY CAPTAIN ABRAM R. WOOLLEY ON LAND PURCHASED BY THE FEDERAL GOVERNMENT FROM WILLIAM B. FOSTER. SERVED AS AMMUNITION PRODUCTION CENTER DURING INDIAN, MEXICAN AND CIVIL WARS. THIS TABLET COMMEMORATES AT LEAST 79 CIVILIAN WORKERS—MEN, WOMEN AND MANY CHILDREN—KILLED IN THREE MYSTERIOUS EXPLOSIONS, SEPTEMBER 17, 1862.
Old Pa Pitt would add that the explosions were not as mysterious as all that. It was an arsenal. The place was devoted to manufacturing things that explode, using explosive materials. Everyone knew that Dupont & Co. had been supplying powder in leaky barrels, probably reused in spite of the specific requirement not to reuse them. Everyone knew there was explosive stuff dusting the ground here and there. The only mystery was which of several possible causes set off the first spark, and that mystery will probably never be solved.
The remains of the dead were buried in a mass grave in Allegheny Cemetery, where an expensive marble memorial was put up. The marble eroded into illegibility by the 1920s, and it was replaced with a new monument with a bronze plaque that will last a few more centuries if it is not stolen and melted down.
Today the powder magazine sits in the middle of a pleasant urban oasis called Arsenal Park. Instead of explosive materials, it has rest rooms.
We have seen this statue before, on the war memorial in Coraopolis. Here the doughboy is missing his bayonet, but otherwise the statue is identical, doubtless cast from the same mold. The three-sided base carries the township honor roll in bronze; and, following his usual practice, Father Pitt records all the names in high enough resolution to be easily legible.
The World War I memorial in Coraopolis has been cleaned and polished and looks new. The statue of an advancing doughboy is probably a stock item—it appears on war memorials in other towns—but it is well executed. It does not stand up to the Lawrenceville Doughboy, but nothing does.
Old Pa Pitt has been making it his usual practice to record all the names on any war memorial he photographs, because even well-maintained memorials like this one can suffer accident or decay. The names will be quite legible if you enlarge the picture.
The memorial stands in Robert E. Williams Memorial Park, originally Herron Hill Park, which was laid out in 1889. It is a very pleasant green space in a pleasant residential section of the Upper Hill.
Because war memorials sometimes become illegible for various reasons, and because a historian friend has been trying to reconstruct the names on another World War I memorial and finding the task difficult, old Pa Pitt has decided to record all the names on this memorial. If you enlarge the pictures, you should be able to read every name clearly.
The emblem of the Corps of Engineers, which in an earlier version of the article Father Pitt had mistaken for the arms of Pittsburgh. Thanks to our commenter below for the correction.
