With the completion of this historical review of the Sidney hotels, many interesting facts were revealed.  Questions remain. Perhaps the most intriguing is, what was it like to spend the night in a Sidney hotel in 1850 and before?  We can only guess.

Were the local hotels an improvement over the infamous ones of the “Old West”?  Were as many as three people, possibly strangers, expected to share the same bed without complaint?  Did bathing consist of a small amount of water in a cramped tub, unscrubbed from the last occupant, with only a sliver of skin-irritating soap and napkin-sized towel provided?  Were there cracks so large between the boards or logs of the building that the wind blowing through extinguished the bedside candle?  Were the mattresses usually on the floor, filled at best with straw or some other lumpy substance?  Was the bedding laundered no oftener than two or three times a year.  We truly hope the accommodations anywhere in Sidney were far better than those we’ve read about occurring “Out West.”

What about sanitation?  We know there were outhouses, or privies, in use all over Sidney.  The Burnett House privy was destroyed by fire one night in June 1883, causing great excitement among the guests and owners of nearby establishments.  By necessity, all dwellings had well-used outhouses.  Additionally, livery stables were common.  Hotel proprietors included in their advertisements the proximity of livery stables, thinking the knowledge would encourage business.  Air pollution was an unknown phrase but, with all the privies and stables, it must have been everywhere.

Fires were always a concern, especially in multi-storied buildings.  When the Hussey Livery Stable on West Poplar Street caught fire and burned for several hours in May 1911, guests staying at the Wagner House and other nearby hotels were evacuated. A fire at any of the hotels would have been dreadful.  All sorts of fire hazards lurked in each one.  Burning candles, open fireplaces, kerosene lamps, unextinguished cigar and cigarette butts carelessly discarded, to name a few, and probably the most dangerous of all, the kitchens.

Yet, with all the inconveniences we recognize and deplore today, the early hotels filled a need.  The most comfortable mode of transportation, if there was one, proved to be an exhausting experience.  The prospects of a little food, however unappetizing, and a bed on which to lie down, however undesirable, were nevertheless inviting to the weary traveler.

Just as they did with every hardship that came their way, our ancestors endured and made the best of every inconvenience including, if necessary, the hotels.  Because of them, we, their descendants, have a better and much more comfortable life.  Though we sometimes wistfully recall the “Good Old Days,” the more we research, the more we realize they were not all that good.

                    (The End)