It’s hard for me to imagine a town without running water, but that was life in Winchester in 1890. With the railroads having come to town, the city was growing rapidly, but most of the 4,500 souls in town still got their water from wells and cisterns. The fire department had six cisterns scattered around the city, each holding 15,000−30,000 gallons.
You’d think people would welcome a waterworks company that would supply the town with a reliable source of water. But in 1889, citizens rejected the proposition by a sizeable majority. According to the Winchester Democrat, when the vote was taken, it had been raining for weeks, and “the mere mention of water nauseating.”
For the next year, the Democrat and Winchester Sun kept the issue alive, extolling the convenience of a waterworks to households, and how it would improve fire protection and help lure new manufacturing concerns. The effort paid off, and in 1890, voters approved a measure authorizing the city council to contract with a company to supply water to the city.
From among the proposals, the council selected the firm of Wheeler & Parks of Boston, Massachusetts. The new Water Works Company erected a dam on Lower Howard’s Creek with a pumping station to move water in a 12-inch main to the city. They laid four and a half miles of coated cast iron pipe in Winchester, along with sixty fireplugs. A 75-foot standpipe was installed on South Main Street. They designed the system to supply a population of 10,000.
The city agreed to pay $3,000 a year for twenty-five years to supply water for public buildings, fire protection, watering troughs, and street sprinkling—the latter presumably to wet down dusty unpaved streets in summer. Residential users would incur annual charges of $8 for one faucet and $2 for each additional faucet, plus $5 for each bathtub and water closet. The company opened a local office on Lexington Avenue.
Upon startup in 1891, the waterworks’ performance exceeded expectations. From the hydrant at the courthouse, water from one hundred feet of 1‑inch hose was thrown 85 feet, up and over the top of the Citizens’ Bank, using only pressure from the standpipe. Residents were also pleased to get a reduction in their insurance rates.

The county experienced a drought in the fall of 1903 that eventually resulted in a cutoff of service due to low water in the reservoir. The new Fish and Game Club was shocked to see thousands of fish killed. As the Water Works Company came in for a public thrashing, a number of different solutions were put forward: 1) raise the dam, 2) buy out the waterworks, and 3) build a line to the Kentucky River to supplement the reservoir.
In 1904, William Wheeler, the supervising engineer, bought out his Boston partner and became the sole owner of Winchester Water Works. He began raising the dam four feet to increase the storage capacity of the reservoir to about 35 acres. Charles Attersall continued as superintendent of the waterworks, a position he held for forty-eight years. His father, William Attersall, had been the long-time fire chief in Winchester.
The 1891 dam impounded both forks of Lower Howard’s Creek and stood near the pumping station on Waterworks Road. A second dam was built in 1905 on the North Fork of the creek, which more than doubled the water storage capacity of the reservoir.
In 1911, the Democrat crowed that the Winchester Water Works “furnishes one of the most complete water systems in the state” and “maintains a steady and adequate supply of pure water for domestic use and affords the best fire protection.” There were issues, however, as the company sued the city for failing to pay for the new fireplugs they installed at the city’s request. By the time the suit was decided against the city in 1920, they owed the waterworks company over $25,000.
With the franchise set to expire in 1916, the city council began discussion of two options: renewing the franchise with Wheeler or buying the waterworks. Due to repeated droughts that plagued the county, proponents of both options insisted on a new line to the Kentucky River. There was much talk of “exorbitant rates” and “water unfit to drink.” Arguments between the parties became quite heated at times, and in the end, nothing was done.
This went on for years. The city wanted to renew the franchise under the same terms, with the stipulation that Wheeler pay for a line to the river (estimated at $200,000)—a bad deal for him. He offered to sell the company, but then the city would have to come up with additional funds for the line to the river. In 1921, Wheeler finally agreed to build a 12-inch main to the Kentucky River, and the city finally agreed to renew his franchise on terms deemed favorable to both.
To be continued...

