Bradford has always had a propensity for town characters. Nearly everyone can remember at least one individual, man or woman, who made the Bradford area a little more interesting by their outlandish dress, quirky habits, unusual appearance or simply the love of life. And in the late 1890s or so, a man named Ed Sutherland definitely fit the bill.
At the tail end of the 19th century, where the average man was 5’6”, Ed Sutherland would have been notable for his unusual size. He was a big man — estimates place him at 6’6” and weighing nearly 450 pounds — but it was his ‘living large’ attitude towards life that made him memorable and truly remarkable. He was a talented chef, caterer, and for many years ran a hotel on the banks of the Allegany River that was renowned for its food, entertainment, and of course, the proprietor himself, Sutherland.
He was born in Port Sarnia, Ontario, Canada in 1843, but by 1872 was living in Titusville where he soon discovered that the hard work of an oil roustabout was not for him. He came to Tarport in January 1880, where he determined to make his living as a cook and hotel keeper, and in February applied for a license required for “hotels, eating houses, wholesale and retail liquors” from the McKean county courthouse. The hotel, which was located on Pine Street, opened on January 20, 1880. Sutherland named it “The Black Bear” (possibly because his pet black bear was often found on the premises).
The Black Bear was fine for most of the year, but summertime called for clam bakes, corn roasts, fishing, duck hunting and dances. Four years later, Sutherland decided to branch out and built a summer resort on the Allegany River near the present day Seneca Junction. He called it “The Riverside” and this large, white, two story building with a wraparound porch was perfect for family outings, company picnics, fishing parties, dances and his soon to be famous “Green Corn and Clam Bake” festivals. Easily reached by train or trolley, The Riverside soon earned a reputation as the perfect summer venue.
A photograph exists of The Riverside, with Ed standing on the second story porch, surrounded by happy customers. He towers above them all.
Of course, his personality was part of the charm. Newsmakers called him a picturesque character, the Mighty Mirth maker, the nabob of Riverside, Lord of the Isle and a jovial giant. His large size was unmistakable, and stories about Ed abounded.
When former president Ulysses S. Grant passed through the city on his way to see the Kinzua Bridge in January 1883, big Ed Sutherland was one of those who shook the president’s hand. “The handshaking process was brought to a summary close by Ed Sutherland, the ponderous landlord of the Black Bear Hotel, who extended his massive right hand which only has the stump of a thumb and enfolded the General’s fingers in a giant grip. In his enthusiasm, he forgot his stumpy thumb, which bored into the tender flesh of the hero and caused him to wince with pain.”
A recipe for cooking Sutherland’s famous baked beans was printed in the newspaper in 1898: “Take two quarts of river water to one quart of beans and soak overnight. The next morning, put them on to boil, then ‘touch’ your neighbor for a piece of salt pork, about the size of a brick. Put half the pork into the pot (saving the rest for the next batch). Toss in a small gob of salt and a few dashes of pepper. Fill a beer glass half full of molasses and dump it in the beans. Then fill the same beer glass with Jamaica rum and drink it. Put the beans in the oven and go play cards until 5:30PM. Then the beans will be ready for any epicure that may arrive from Bradford in search of recreation.”
In January 1886, fellow members of the AOUW (Ancient Order of United Workmen) lured Ed and his wife away from the Black Bear Hotel for a surprise party. When Sutherland returned and found the dining room decorated and filled with friends, he roared “What’s the matter? Am I dead?” They assured him that he was not and presented him with a gold enameled diamond watch charm which one of the guests attached to Sutherland’s watch chain laughing that due to his weight “he’d never be able to look down and see it.”
Sutherland’s friends were often worried about his weight, and in February of 1897 suggested a way to lose a few pounds. The Era reported “Ed Sutherland of Riverside Park is too heavy by several hundred pounds to engage in sprinting matches or other athletic exercises and he asked a personal friend who knows all about such things, how to curtail the immensity of his physique. Anti-fat (a remedy advertised in the local newspapers) was declared a delusion and a snare, and after due deliberation it was decided that the famous chef and all-round entertainer take a course of training with a sledge hammer at an adjacent oil well. Sutherland did as directed and got along nicely for a brief period. Then a large and very heavy bit fell on one of his massive feet and – he hasn’t done anything since.”
Sutherland was fond of animals (remember the black bear?) and at one point also owned a prairie wolf, a porcupine and a family of groundhogs.
Tragedy struck on April 10, 1900, when a kerosene lamp in the kitchen of the Riverside exploded, and the ensuing fire spread so rapidly throughout the hotel that it was a complete loss. Within thirty minutes, it had burned to the ground. Sutherland had no insurance, but quipped “I managed to save both the suit on my back and a lawsuit” and vowed to rebuild.
A fund-raising event to raise money for the project was held a month later at the Wagner Opera house on the corner of Main and Chamber Streets in Bradford to help Sutherland with finances. Promoted as “A Harmless One Act Caricature entitled A Picnic at Riverside Park by No One in Particular” fellow businessmen and friends from Bradford acted, sang and danced. One man, Harry Crandall, dressed as Ed Sutherland himself and was “so like the original that everybody was surprised and delighted at the cleverness of the presentation.”
Sutherland married in the mid-1870s and he and his wife Elizabeth had one child, Isabelle, born in 1878. The 1910 census shows that they adopted their nine-year-old grandson, Ralph. Sutherland retired soon after that, and moved to Limestone, N.Y.
Ed Sutherland died on April 11, 1919 at the age of 75. His obituary read “his happy disposition, amiable manner and good nature won for him many lasting friends.”
Ed and his wife are buried in Franklinville, N.Y.
