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History of Phillips, Wisconsin

s the railroads and the lumber companies made their way through the northern pineries, Phillips grew along the eastern bank of Elk Lake on the Elk River. Never to be the home of the wealthy lumber barons or the scene of the great log drives, Phillips was known as a pleasant, friendly and progressive community, very much as it is today.

The pride with which the city was rebuilt after the fire of 1894 is still evident in many downtown buildings. Nearly one third of the buildings along the main street were built between 1894 and 1900, most of red brick, several with sandstone trim. Efforts to stabilize and modernize have disguised the majority of these architectural gems, but their grace is still evident in their lines and window spacing.

As the timber played out, farmers, mostly Eastern Europe, bought the cut over land, built fine rock fences and raised their families. Downtown Phillips catered to their needs for hardware, dry goods and groceries, filling the gaps on main street with wood frame storefronts. Most businesses had at least one clerk who spoke Czech, and St. Mary's Catholic CHurch held service in both Bohemian and English.

Phillips is surrounded by flowages created by logging dams which were rebuilt in the 1930's under WPA. Over 500 miles of snowmobile trails, 70 miles of cross country ski trails and ample public access for hunting and fishing provide great year around recreation. We also enjoy a strong industrial base with unequalled employment opportunities; a beautiful indoor community pool; and a fine library, all of which make Phillips a great place to live.

Phillips Fire - 1894 The summer of 1894 was one of intense heat and continued drought. By mid-July the timber slashings were tinder dry. Tops and branches of untold numbers of trees were lying in weathered heaps. Thousands of cords of hemlock bark were piled in the woods waiting to be hauled to the tannery. Added to this were the neglected hemlock trunks and the inches of dry needles covering the dusty soil. The streams were nearly dry and the lakes showed muddy flats surrounded by pools of stagnant water. Parched swamps stood high with dry, brown grass replacing the lush green of other years. The stage was set in northern Wisconsin for the worst fires the state would ever see.

Phillips was located in the middle of this powder keg. A thriving sawmill city of 2,500, it was stretched along the west bank of Elk Lake and the Elk River.

July 27th dawned gray and sunless.The brownish-gray haze thickened as the day progressed. Phillips was experiencing another smoky Friday. The mill whistles blew, and work started as usual. Fires had been smoldering in the surrounding cutover for days and the smoke-laden air was something that had to be lived with. Only the night before, a fire had approached the north end of the city, but the efficient volunteer fire department had stopped it. What could not be seen through the wall of smoke, and was not known until too late, was that the fire that would destroy Phillips was already on its way, burning its way towards Phillips from the west.

Fire had started in piles of hemlock bark 10 miles west and was devouring its way, slowly but surely, waiting only for a wind that would change its consuming pace into a racing, roaring giant of destruction.

Shortly after noon, a southwesterly wind sprang up. Soon ashes and burning sparks began to fill the air. Cedar-shingled roofs of houses and the numerous barns were ignited by the sparks. Frantic water pail brigades did what they could to stop the spread of these flames. Then the fire itself, racing in from the west, broke out of the timber near Tannery-town. Despite efforts of the fire department and workmen from the mill and the tannery, the fire roared on unchecked. The wall of fire could not be stopped. Thirty minutes later the tannery, and 25 nearby houses were gone.

Now another fire came out of the swamp near the center of the city, west of the business district. It headed unerringly toward the high piles of lumber and logs waiting on the shore of the lake. On its way, homes and churches, schools and stores, saloons and warehoused, added their bit to the flames.

The residents of Phillips, living in the threat of fire for days, were nevertheless unprepared for the speed of the destruction. When the residents realized that the homes and businesses couldn't be saved, they tried to save their personal possessions, only to abandon them when flames and flying embers turned all efforts into a race for life. Man could do no more.

Before dawn of the following day a drizzle of rain started to fall. Daylight revealed the most desolate scene imaginable. Only a few charred remnants of building remained. This was utter destruction, which had literally wiped Phillips from the face of the earth.

PHILLIPS DOWNBURST STORM

July 4th, 1977 was a hot, sticky day in northern Wisconsin.

Price County Sheriff Wally Krenzke remembers, “The old-timers said, ‘We're going to get a heck of a storm out of this,’ and by God, we did."

Just before 3:00 that afternoon, a gargantuan storm blasted Phillips with wind and torrential rainfall.

"It actually sounded like a large freight train coming, bearing down right on top of you," says Cully Erickson, retired Flambeau River State Forest Superintendent, who waited out the storm with his family in his basement.

At the Phillips Airport, the anemometer, which measures wind velocity, had a reading of 100 mph before it was blown away; the same thing happened at the Rhinelander Airport.

"We came up after the storm and lo & behold, the house was just covered with trees,” says Erickson.

Thirty homes were destroyed and many more were damaged.

Phillips was just part of the destructive storm's 800-mile path that stretched from North Dakota to Ohio, injuring 37 people and killing one woman in Sawyer County.

Surprisingly, it was not tornadoes that did this damage, but downbursts from a large thunderstorm complex.

Downbursts happen when cool air within a thunderstorm rushes down to the ground, producing severe straight-line winds.

"After the storm was done, I grabbed my chainsaw and I needed that to cut my way into town, there was a lot of trees down along the road,” recalls Sheriff Wally Krenzke.

One of the many shocking pictures from that day is of the Skyline Motel.

The roof was blown off and landed on Highway 13.

There was also considerable damage to Fred Smith's statues at the "Wisconsin Concrete Park".

According to the National Weather Service, 172,000 acres of forest were badly damaged or destroyed in Price County, and hundreds of thousands of acres were damaged across the rest of northern Wisconsin.

The destruction was no match for the determination of the residents there, however.

"The volunteers from around the area were just absolutely outstanding," says Cully Erickson.

It took a few years, but the community got back to normal.

They even commemorated their tenacity in the face of Mother Nature by having a "Downburst Celebration" on Independence Day for a few years

That evolved into their current Fourth of July Festivities, according to Judith Boers, Executive Director of the Phillips Area Chamber of Commerce.

Thirty years later, the memory of that storm is still strong.

This year, the Phillips Area Chamber of Commerce is giving out an award for the float in the Fourth of July Parade that best depicts the events surrounding the downburst.

"It's a celebration of the survival rather than the disaster. It's how the people came together after the downburst," says Boers.

Through their determination, Phillips is again a thriving town, ready to weather any storms that come its way.

http://www.wsaw.com/weather/headlines/8323672.html