If it weren’t for the chain-link fence, barbed wire and no-trespassing signs, the view would be spectacular.
Reservoir Park in Goodyear Heights is a stone’s throw from Akron’s highest natural point at 1,206 feet above sea level.
The lofty elevation is why the city constructed a reservoir at Brittain Road and Newton Street nearly 100 years ago.
The concrete basin — 312 square feet and 30 feet deep — was designed to hold 20 million gallons of water, Akron’s average daily consumption at the time. The man-made mound, an oddity to modern observers, is covered in earth and grass except for a fortresslike station built into the western edge.
In the early 20th century, Summit Lake was Akron’s primary source of drinking water, even though industrial waste and raw sewage made it “offensive to sight and smell,” according to a Summit County Board of Health report.
“Akronites in those days rather expected to see a polliwog slither out every time a spigot was turned,” Akron Times-Press reporter Evan Williams Jr. recalled in 1931. “The taste of the fluid could best be described as vile. Turning a faucet was almost a signal to hold the nostrils.”
Deadly typhoid outbreaks were a constant threat to the city of 69,000.
In 1911, hydraulic engineers Frank Barbour and E.C. Bradbury recommended that Akron build a dam and treatment plant in Portage County to collect fresh water from the upper section of the Cuyahoga River.
The $4.5 million project, approved by voters, secured 2,174 acres north of Kent and created 700-acre Lake Rockwell, which was named for Akron Mayor Frank W. Rockwell, a champion of the public-owned water system.
Preliminary work began in 1913 in the new neighborhood of Goodyear Heights on a “distributing reservoir,” which would maintain water pressure in the city. Akron Storage & Construction Co. won the 1914 contract with a bid of $114,000 (about $2.6 million today).
“Unusual difficulties” were reported in the reservoir’s construction. A rock formation wreaked havoc with the pouring of concrete, forcing workers to dig deeper and deeper to find a solid foundation.
Division engineer Charles B. Cornell halted the project after accusing the contractor of using inferior concrete. George Crisp, president of Akron Storage, strongly objected to the work stoppage.
The two men exchanged words. Fists began to fly. The engineer was pounding the executive into the ground when workers broke up the fight. Summoned to City Hall, the two apologized for their confrontation, but then someone said something that the other didn’t like, and they started punching each other again.
Cornell apparently got his point across: The infrastructure has stood for a century. The concrete basin was topped with a concrete roof supported by massive columns. The roof was then covered with earth and grass by state decree.
With great fanfare, Akron opened the floodgates on its new waterworks in 1915. Water from Lake Rockwell was filtered, treated, purified and pumped through 11 miles of steel mains to the Goodyear Heights reservoir, which the Beacon Journal dubbed “Akron’s 20 million gallon water jug.”
No longer would residents fear typhoid — or polliwogs.
The reservoir supplied “a fairly constant pressure” of 70 pounds throughout the city. If the Lake Rockwell plant pumped more than what was used in Akron over 24 hours, excess water was stored in the reservoir.
A few years later, when radio was in its infancy, the city installed one of the area’s first low-wave wireless transmitters to send hourly reports to the pumping station about the reservoir’s level.
The Goodyear Heights mound, then known as the waterworks, was a neighborhood attraction. The hill wasn’t barricaded from the public, so children somersaulted down it in the summer and sledded down it in the winter. It was a favorite spot for Sunday picnics and afternoon hikes.
Seiberling Elementary School opened in 1922 on the other side of Brittain Road. While new houses sprouted around the neighborhood, land near the reservoir was mostly untamed — except for a baseball diamond known as Waterworks Field.
In the mid-1930s, the Goodyear Heights Recreation Association proposed turning the 10-acre wasteland into “a model play center.” The city water department invited the Works Progress Administration to build a stone shelter house while Richard Barnhardt, superintendent of parks, supervised landscaping.
Initially called Waterworks Park, the name soon changed to Reservoir Park. The city added baseball fields, horseshoe courts, tennis courts, a wading pool and a playground.
The dedication in June 1938 was a major event attended by 10,000 people. Led by the Goodyear boys band, a parade of 500 children marched to the park. Boy Scouts held a flag-raising ceremony. Politicians gave speeches. Youngsters feasted on ice cream and cake.
Wendell R. LaDue, superintendent of the waterworks department, officially turned over the park to the recreation department. Goodyear co-founder C.W. Seiberling broke ground on an amphitheater.
The day’s activities included 12 acts of vaudeville, three boxing matches and a concert.
The biggest attraction by far, however, was Cleveland Indians pitcher Bob Feller, 19, who served as umpire of a youth-league baseball game and delivered the ceremonial first pitch. Tribe pitcher Bill Zuber and Indians pitching coach Wally Schang cheered from the stands.
Indians radio announcer Jack Graney and broadcasting partner Pinky Hunter called the play-by-play action over the public loudspeakers.
“This playground is a dream come true,” A.J. MacDonald, president of the Goodyear Heights Recreation Association, told a newspaper reporter. “Four years ago, our youngsters were forced to play in the streets. There was no such thing as organized recreation in our district then.
“When we get our program functioning, we hope to bring to Goodyear Heights some of the old-fashioned community spirit that has been lost in the rush and hubble of this modern life.”
The city maintained its control of the reservoir, which was fenced off permanently during World War II as a precaution against sabotage. Other water basins were built in Akron, taking the pressure off Goodyear Heights.
Over the decades, Reservoir Park added a swimming pool, basketball courts, community center and other amenities. The “model play center” remains a hub for sporting events, club meetings, family celebrations and holiday festivities.
In the “rush and hubble” of this modern life, it’s comforting to know that Goodyear Heights still maintains a reservoir of summer fun.
Copy editor Mark J. Price is author of The Rest Is History: True Tales From Akron’s Vibrant Past, a book from the University of Akron Press. He can be reached at 330-996-3850 or mjprice@thebeaconjournal.com.