
Retaining history: Morgantown walls receive historic designation
May 8—MORGANTOWN — A city built in the hills is built on retaining walls.
Take a look around. They're everywhere.
Earlier this week, Morgantown Mayor Joe Abu-Ghannam announced that three such structures have received a joint historical designation for their association with the Works Progress Administration (WPA) and other New Deal programs implemented in the 1930s as a response to the Great Depression.
Deckers Creek Wall The Deckers Creek Wall is an ashlar-stone retaining wall located along the Monongahela River tributary near downtown Morgantown.
The wall, built to prevent erosion of land into the creek, is 1, 270 feet long and nine-to-10 courses, or block layers, tall depending on the location.
According to the application submitted to the U.S. Department of the Interior, there is historical documentation in Morgantown City Council minutes linking the wall to the early Reconstruction Finance Corp. and the Civil Works Administration, as well as the WPA.
Council meeting minutes indicate the stone for the wall was initially pulled from the Suncrest Quarry, then the Booth Creek stone quarry, located about three miles south of Morgantown.
Minutes show the wall was a topic of council discussion starting in 1933, when construction of a rip rap wall was initiated along Deckers Creek "in the Hog Back vicinity."
Construction, repair, reinforcement and reconstruction continued until 1943.
Eighth Street Stone Retaining Walls The Eighth Street Stone Retaining Walls are located along the west side of the street between University and Grant avenues.
According to Morgantown City Council minutes, the walls were built between 1934 and 1937 to retain the terrace upon which homes were constructed.
Each section of wall runs approximately 80 feet. They are constructed of sandstone with rectangular raised joints and a top cap. There are three plaques indicating that the walls were constructed in 1934 by workers under the Federal Emergency Relief Administration.
The walls are made of rough-faced ashlar stone — meaning cut, dressed and stacked — indicative of the construction style of the New Deal era.
Regular progress reports appear in the city council minutes until May 1937.
According to the application, "the walls are a physical example of Depression-Era relief and workmanship. They are an example of federal relief program funding put to use in Morgantown."
Richwood Avenue Wall The Richwood Avenue Wall is a massive sandstone retaining wall on the south side of Richwood Avenue, but it's not visible from the street.
Built between 1936 and1937, the wall forms the northern boundary of Whitemoore Park and creates a "substantial landscape feature " when viewed from the park due to its rough-faced stones and large, regularly-spaced buttresses.
The wall is a total length of 1, 280 feet and stands between 11-to-15 feet tall in most places depending on terrain. It was constructed in two sections separated by a short peninsula of lawn that provides access down to the 8.6-acre park below.
The wall is marked "WPA 1936, " and described in the designation request as "one of the best preserved and well documented New Deal Era stone walls compared to other walls in the area."
According to Morgantown City Council meeting minutes from April 17, 1934, the city manager reported that there had been a large slip into Whitemoore Park, which appears to have been the impetus to apply for WPA funding and initiate a large retaining wall project.
In 1937, the wall was dedicated in a ceremony that drew 5, 000 people and included a mile-long parade according to newspaper reports.
The Dominion News reported the event's attendees included Morgantown Mayor Harry Largent, Congressman Jennings Randolph and the regional engineer for the WPA program.
Hashtags

Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Yahoo
3 hours ago
- Yahoo
‘I'm not the hero': At 99, one of America's few living D-Day vets would rather be fishing
How do you carry a shard of history everybody wants a glimpse of, a memory everyone craves? Edward Sandy and his friend Spero Mihilas shared one such memory but bore it differently. Friends since their Depression-era childhood in upstate New York, they enlisted together in the Navy in 1943, Sandy at just 17. A year later — June 6, 1944 — they found themselves on the same gunner boat off the coast of Normandy, France. Shells exploded around them. Nazi gunfire pounded from the shoreline. It was D-Day, one of the 20th century's most famous battles, history's largest amphibious invasion. With an assault wave of 160,000 Allied soldiers, the Battle of Normandy has been memorialized in countless books and movies. To the soldiers, it was a mess of sea spray, confusion and slaughter. Theirs seemed a suicidal mission — the two friends and their crew were assigned to run a converted landing craft up and down the shoreline, their job to draw enemy fire away from troops making landfall. Mihilas would later recall their commanding officers 'informed us we'd be slaughtered." But they survived unscathed. After the famous ground invasion broke through, marking the beginning of the end of the war, their role in the initial assault wave turned into a weeks-long rescue mission, one that left their decks drenched with the blood of wounded comrades they shuttled from shore. In the decades to come the two men would remain friends, each finding their way in later years to Florida. But they would treat their shared experience differently. Whereas Mihilas would aerate it with discussion and recollection, Sandy would keep it close, demurring on details, leaning into understatement. 'It didn't look too good, believe me,' he says now of the battlefield that day. That reluctance held true even when he and his friend would meet, Sandy traveling north from his home in Lantana to visit his old friend, now deceased, in Winter Park. 'That's all he'd talk about would be the war,' Sandy recalls now. 'He'd say, 'Sandy, we were lucky.' ' D-DAY: Veteran lost leg but not spirit on fateful 1944 day Lucky they certainly were. Sandy finished a three-year tour of duty, went home and started a life and family as nations rose and fell. Eighty-one years later, here he is on the cusp of a century of life, sitting in a Tex-Mex restaurant in Lantana waiting to place his order. The 99-year-old can do fewer things these days. He loves fishing but his balance isn't what it once was. That and swollen feet make getting in and out of boats difficult. Mostly he and his son watch fishing shows on TV. He doesn't talk much about the war now. Not that he ever did if he could avoid it. 'I don't know,' he says. 'It's just a feeling in me. I just don't like it.' But you can get him talking about fishing. About the snakehead fish and clown knifefish he caught last summer on Lake Ida in Delray Beach, an increasingly rare boating excursion to celebrate his 99th birthday. His son thinks he may now hold the record of oldest person to catch each one. Sandy's face brightens, too, when the conversation switches from war to what followed. When his three years in the Navy ended, he returned to his home in Amsterdam, New York, a small city 32 miles northwest of Albany. D-DAY: Palm Beach County remembers He doesn't hold back talking about how he met his wife, Barbara, now 90. It was a buddy who summoned him one day to come out and meet her. 'He says, 'Ed, you've got to come to the bowling alley,' " he recalls. " 'This girl, she's something. You gotta meet her.' ' 'Boy, he was right,' he says. 'She was nice. And we hit it off together.' WORLD WAR II: Christmas dinner 1943: WWII Navy vet cooked all night for 8,000 sailors ... 'A lot of guys weren't going to be around the next year' They married in 1959 and honeymooned in Miami. Thirteen years and three kids later, they moved to Palm Beach County. Sandy got a job with the county government's traffic engineering department, striping roadways. They bought a house with a pool on 57th Avenue in Greenacres. 'It worked out perfect,' he said. 'Everything just clicked just like that. So I figured we moved at the right time.' He loved the warm weather, raised his family, retired from the county at 62 and never looked back. A long, rich life followed, but memories of D-Day are always there. D-DAY: The men on the beach remember Yet those frightening days along the Normandy beaches are what people push for a glimpse of. Not just the names and dates — the sensations, that brush with the sweep of history. It's not that he refuses to discuss it. In February he and the family drove down to Sunrise, where he was honored at a Florida Panthers hockey game. The stadium played a prerecorded interview with him on the Jumbotron, where he gamely summarized his experience. 'We were on a gunboat. We were patrolling the shore,' he said in the video. 'I helped protect the men on the beach.' 'A bomb went over our bow and another bomb went over our stern,' he recalled. 'We were very lucky we didn't get hit.' He brought down the house with his go-to line about confidence in victory that day: 'We knew we were going to do it. We're Americans.' 'I'm not the hero,' he was quick to add. 'The heroes are the ones that are left there.' From a seat in the arena, he waved to acknowledge the crowd's applause, all smiles. Sandy's son, Mark, a Navy veteran himself, said his father's reservedness is borne from his awareness that so many others paid such a steep price. It's estimated some 4,400 Allied soldiers died on D-Day, including 2,500 Americans. 'He's lucky that he's here, is the way that I think he looks at it,' he said. 'And he doesn't really want to talk about it because there were a lot of people lost during that time. He's just fortunate that he came back. And he's really humble about that.' There are fewer and fewer World War II veterans still living. Of the 16 million Americans who served during the war, the Department of Veterans Affairs estimated in January that just 66,000 were still alive. Of the 73,000 American soldiers who fought in the Battle of Normandy, it's likely just a few hundred remain. Sandy's 100th birthday comes in July. To celebrate, his son Mark hopes to take him out boating again. If he can document his father catching another snakehead or clownknife fish, maybe he'll set a new record, on the day of his centennial no less. Now that would be something to talk about. Andrew Marra is a reporter at The Palm Beach Post. Reach him at amarra@ This article originally appeared on Palm Beach Post: Navy vet Edward Sandy, 99, of Lantana, survived D-Day
Yahoo
11 hours ago
- Yahoo
WPAFB working to combat forever chemicals, water contamination
DAYTON, Ohio (WDTN) — Wright-Patterson Air Force Base officials gave 2 NEWS an inside look at efforts to combat forever chemicals in their water. Wright-Patt is working to reduce water contamination on base through several water treatment sites. This comes after the EPA updated the maximum PFAS containment levels in 2024. Trump administration moves to roll back Biden-era PFAs water protections PFAS stands for Per- and polyfluoroalkyl substances, which are synthetic compounds with properties to repel oil, water and other liquids. This water contamination comes from 'film forming foam' used in firefighting, wastewater treatment plants, agricultural runoff and more. The Air Force Base plans to have five treatment sites in total — currently, two are active. WPAFB has treated more than 31 million gallons of water so far. The deadline to meet the new EPA standards is 2029. Copyright 2025 Nexstar Media, Inc. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed.
Yahoo
14 hours ago
- Yahoo
Japanese imperial family pays respects to victims of WWII ship sunk by U.S. sub
June 5 (UPI) -- Japan's royal family wrapped up a two day visit to Okinawa Thursday, where they paid respects to the victims of a World War II-era Japanese evacuation ship that was torpedoed by a U.S. submarine. Japanese Emperor Naruhito, Empress Masako and their daughter Princess Aiko prayed for the victims who were lost aboard the ship, according to the Japanese national daily news outlet the Mainichi. They called for peace during their visit. The imperial family presented flowers and bowed deeply at a memorial site in Nama for the Tsushima battleship, on which at least 1,500 people, including hundreds of schoolchildren, were killed in the torpedo attack. The family also visited a nearby memorial museum where they spoke to survivors and bereaved family members, and also witnessed several personal items that belonged to the schoolchildren who died. One man, 85-year-old Masakatsu Takara, recounted the pain of losing nine of his family members, including his parents and siblings. The Tsushima Maru was hit with a torpedo near southwestern Japan's Tokara Islands while traveling from Okinawa to Nagasaki during an August, 1944 government ordered evacuation.