Rob

My name is Rob Davis. I’ve been interested in antique bottles ever since I found my first patent medicine bottle by accident while at a family picnic in 1979. It was a “Dr. D. Jayne’s Tonic Vermifuge – The Strength Giver” bottle that I still cherish to this day. It’s not worth very much, but it started a life-long interest in touching the past. I have dug in many dumps and on construction sites but I always knew that the real goodies were waiting many feet below the earth, encased in a brick, stone or wood lined tomb where they were discarded into what was once an outhouse, or privy.

My friend Chuck and I dug our first privy in Northside (a suburb of Cincinnati) at the home of my brother-in-law Mike and his lovely wife, Bevin. The house was built in 1885. I had watched Eddie and his partner Mike dig on several occasions, did research for over a year, got all of the equipment, and was granted permission. It finally came together on Saturday, June 3rd 2006. I want to thank Bevin and Mike for being so gracious as to allow us to dig a shockingly giant hole in the yard of their first home, a beautifully restored Victorian-era 3 story. Also, thanks to Eddie and his partner Mike for reviving my interest in old bottles again and answering all of my questions in regard to the art of privy location and excavation.

Chuck and I showed up at the site early Saturday morning. We were probing the back yard for about 5 minutes and Bevin came out and said half jokingly “what in the hell are you guys doing?”

“Um… didn’t Mike tell you?” I asked.

“Tell me what?” she replied.
Uh oh. “Well… we are here to dig your privy!”

I told her all about it and promised we would leave the yard in tip-top condition and she said “cool, go on ahead.”

Thinking that we might find some Bromo Seltzer bottles, I announced “Bevin, I’m going to find you a cobalt blue medicine bottle- I promise!” She said “OK, but I’m gonna hold you to it- I collect cobalt glass” just before she want back inside.

We continued probing. And probing, and probing and probing- both corners in the back of the yard, the very back of the middle of the yard, and any depression we could find. We probed for ~2 hours with the 6-footer and were getting worn out. Hope was diminishing rapidly. I doubted this whole thing including my sanity at this point. However, I was not about to give up. “Chuck, there is a privy here- we have to find it man!” Then I said, “well, I know what you’re supposed to do when you can’t locate the privy” and Chuck said “grid”? I said yep. So grid we did. This entailed starting at the back right corner of the yard and working our way towards the left corner of the property line. I needed a rest so I handed the probe to Chuck and he started at it.

I watched him probe and on the 3rd time it went down about 3 feet then from there it seemed to sink almost effortlessly the remaining 3 feet until the top of the handle hit the ground. Our eyes locked, this HAD to be it I proclaimed. Handing the probe to me, I was able to reproduce the “push, push, SINK” of the probe several times within a foot of where the probe initially sank. I then probed downward and outward of the spot at an angle and the probe told me I had found the walls. We marked where the walls were to the best of our knowledge (or should I say ignorance?), carefully removed the sod, and laid it on the 9x12 poly-vinyl tarp. The digging began.

This particular privy was a round stone liner, about 4 feet in diameter and lord knows how deep. We were about to find out, I hoped.

At about 3 feet, Chuck suddenly pulled out a bottle- a small Bromo! Yahoo, nothing great but this is what I promised Bevin! It was working out. She came over to check out our progress and I said “Here ya go” and Chuck handed her the Bromo. She couldn’t believe it, and suddenly became very interested in the whole thing and the questions started- “how deep will you dig?” “What else is in there?” “How long will it take?” I answered to the best of my knowledge- “well, we won’t know until we hit bottom- some are 6 feet, some are even up to 18 feet in urban areas, gotta dig until we hit bottom then we’ll know”. I told her we would hopefully find marbles, transfer ware, maybe some porcelain piano dolls, basically anything that you would throw out as there was no trash pickup in 1885. The last question I guessed at- “how long will it take?” to which I answered “oh, a couple of hours.” I would find out the answers eventually- I hoped!

My brother-in-law, Mike, got home and offered us a hand. The rest of the day is a blur, almost like a dream that you can barely remember. It was the excitement, the work, and everything culminating all at once in an experience that I will never forget that made the whole day seem surreal. Mike’s good friend Adam (and my friend too) showed up and was eager to offer a hand. He was quickly dubbed the nickname “Bucket Buddy” as he was very adept with the rope and the bucket.

Now I was in privy digger mode- it was serious. We were at about 6 feet and the ladder came out so we could get into and out of the hole. I started thinking about everything Eddie told me: “guys, do not leave any dirt or stuff stuck to the walls it could fall on us when we get deeper!” and “hey you in the hole, put these gloves on, if you get cut it’s over!” “Don’t leave rocks that you toss out so close to the hole, they could fall or get kicked in on us!” I then apologized and told them I would feel responsible if something went wrong as it was my crazy idea to do this thing. They understood. That’s when my nickname came about- I instantly became known as “Privy Mom”. Safety first, you could easily get injured or killed digging a privy and the stark reality of that fact suddenly dawned on me.

I hopped into the hole and started worrying about daylight and my Sunday obligations and went about it. The layers began to change color, the smell became familiar, and I announced we were close to the use layer (yeah right, I had said that several times already!) Mike & Chuck took turns as “Bucket Buddy” as did Adam. I slowed down at about 9 feet layer as we were getting into the use layer as evidenced by lots of broken transferware and dishes, buttons, two complete (minus the hurricanes) oil lamps, etc. Buttons of glass, shell and mother-of-pearl were seemingly everywhere. Bottles started turning up all over and I put them into the bucket for the ride up to daylight. We even found 2 badly rusted revolvers, beyond salvage or electrolysis. “Cool, a Hutch!” which Chuck had commented on wanting to find earlier. “Here’s a brown squat beer bottle, nice one!” “Another Hutch guys, different type.” “This one says ‘Criswell’s Bromo Pepsin – cures headache’ and is shaped like a small Bromo but is brown.” This went on and on for the next 3 feet or so. Local apothecary embossed medicines, vials of all sizes, wacky patent medicine cures, Sperm Sewing Machine oil, several more Bromos of the small variety, Omega Oil, a porcelain doll’s head, a porcelain “piano” doll missing the arms, several marbles including a Bennington, whole flower pots, just too much to list. A squat aqua soda embossed with “Dappen & Beck Cincinnati O” that I really liked, a lot. A squat amber beer embossed with “Jos. Pichel Cincinnati O” that Chuck admired. Stuff was everywhere!

By now it was about 9:30 and getting too dark to dig. I probed using the 3 footer before I got out and it went down about 6 inches then seemed to hit compact, sandy material with no sign of any other artifacts. We were between 13 and 14 feet down now. Before I climbed up and out, I stood there admiring the stone walls that were in as good of condition and as solid as the day they were built. In a sort of way, I paid homage to the men who constructed it and could not think of anything more difficult than the job of a 19th century privy digger, nor any hobby that is so much work yet so much fun. I got out of the pit and we all agreed to finish up and then fill ‘er in the next morning.

We met as scheduled the next day. Chuck got in the hole, found a few more bottles including an aqua ink, and probed again using the 3 footer to confirm we were at the bottom. My first privy dig, did this just really happen? My arms, which felt like like limp noodles, assured me that it had. The huge piles of fill that we had to put back into the hole confirmed it. The landowners had broken up a concrete patio the week prior leaving them with about 2 tons of concrete. They were quoted a cost of $700 for removal. Into the hole it went, saving them a lot of hassle. It took us about 2 hours to fill ‘er in and we packed it down good every 2 feet, put the sod back down, and cleaned things up. You could hardly tell we were there (much to the delight of Bevin and Mike!)

In all, we found about 50 bottles that dated from about 1885 to 1900. A lot were duplicates of what I already had- Dr. S Pitcher’s Castoria, Omega Oil, Sperm Sewing Machine Oil, etc. I knew this; I told everyone this was an acid test for the next dig and a great one to learn on and gave Bevin & Mike most of the bottles. I only kept 3 for myself. I got the Criswell’s Bromo-Pepsin, the Dappen & Beck squat soda, and a local H.K. Kutchbauchs Apothecary bottle from Cumminsville Ohio with “Patent Jan. 24th 88” on the bottom. Chuck kept a Hutch, some wacky “Cures Piles” remedy, the amber squat beer, and a few local meds. Adam seemed interested in the ink so we agreed he should have it.

As Mike was walking into the house with a box full of bottles, he stopped and said “just think, someone who lived in this house took these same bottles out of this very door over 100 years ago, and now here I am taking them back into the house!” I just smiled and said “exactly bro, that’s what it’s all about! You have touched the past!”

the 3 bottles I kept: “Criswell’s Bromo-Pepsin Cures Headach. “Dappen & Beck Cincinnati O” squat soda

“H.K. Kutchbauchs Apothecary Cumminsville pat. Jan 24 88”