Petaluma History: ‘I got him! I’m glad I got him!’

The headlines in the Petaluma Daily Courier of Oct. 21, 1915, blared, “Murder of A.J. McPhail Startles City.”

On the foggy Petaluma day of Oct. 20, a tragic crossing of paths of two old acquaintances led to the vicious murder of one by the other.

It was an event that shook our town to its roots.

Andrew McPhail had become one of Petaluma’s best known businessmen. He was a very popular, jovial and generous person. In 1855, he had been one of the first babies born in our town. He lived his early life in a small cottage on Kentucky Street and had married Petaluma‘s Ella Gale of Howard Street, in 1889.

Pioneer “Andy” McPhail became a successful drayman in Petaluma and eventually operated his own drayage business on Main Street. There were few better respected men. He belonged to several lodges and he was loved and admired by his employees, some of whom were, sadly, to become his pallbearers.

For Andrew McPhail was to die at the age of 59.

In 1915, Hiram (“Hi”) Talley, age 76, was a veteran of the American Civil War and a member of the Petaluma branch of the Grand Army of the Republic. “Hi” had lived alone for many years in a rented room on Keokuk Street. He had been a resident of Petaluma for 40 years and existed on the federal military pension of just $1 a day. All who knew “Hi” Talley thought of him as a gentle and quiet man. He had been deafened by artillery fire during the war and carried a pencil and pad for folks to write down their questions. He often spoke of that great war, which he would never forget.

For the last 40 years of their lives, Talley and McPhail knew each other as friends. Talley would often sit on the bench just outside McPhail’s drayage and chat about the war. At one time Talley had owned a wagon-painting business located in the McNear Building on C and Third Streets. Andy McPhail, with his many dray wagons, had been one of his best customers.

However, on that fateful day, 102 years ago ‒ the same year everyone was buzzing about the World’s Fair in San Francisco ‒ Hi Talley had been observed pacing slowly, all morning with his cane, in front of McPhail’s Drayage. When Andrew came out of his office to speak with one of his wagon drivers and to unload some egg cases, Hiram Talley quietly drew a fully loaded, long barreled .38 caliber pistol from his belt and aimed it at McPhail.

For several ominous seconds the two men stared at each other and no word was spoken. Talley then placed the pistol back into his belt. Several minutes later, McPhail once again emerged from the store front. This time, Talley drew his pistol and fired a lethal bullet into Andrew McPhail’s brain.

There were 20 stunned people within 50 feet of the shooter and his victim. McPhail, bleeding profusely, crumpled to the street. Several friends rushed to his aid and carried him inside, where he died moments later. Andrew J. McPhail was gone forever, and no one had a clue as to why this had happened.

Hiram Talley smiled strangely, reportedly cool and collected, as he slowly walked away from the terrible scene. He did not get far before Newspaper Publisher D.W. Ravenscroft and several other men tackled and disarmed him. Taken to City Hall, and placed in a cell by Police Chief Flohr, Talley laughed madly and shouted, “I got him! I’m glad I got him!” In the debriefing, Talley was incoherent and continually laughed aloud at questions, expressing that he’d had some kind of disagreement with McPhail.

But, if he did, no one knew of it. Not McPhail’s wife Ella, not his secretary, not his friends or employees.

When asked if he thought he had violated a law, Talley’s answer was, “Never gave it a thought.” When asked if he should be punished for his deed, he replied, “When you are ready to shoot me, stand me alongside a wall and shoot away. Wouldn’t bat an eye! Tell Captain Dickson to load his muskets and shoot away!”

No one had any idea who “Captain Dickson” was.

His recounting of events ranged freely from Petaluma to the Battle of Gettysburg. The County Coroner’s jury took just 10 minutes to find him guilty and committed him to an insane asylum for the rest of his life. This result didn’t at all sit well with Petalumans, most of whom wanted to see Hiram Talley hanged by his neck on Main Street.

No one ever knew the real story behind this violent moment in our history.

It is quite possible, however, that the devastating madness that had been the American Civil War had, 51 years later in a small town in the West, claimed two more victims.

Skip Sommer’s “Petaluma Past” runs the first Friday of the month in the Argus-Courier. Sommer is an honorary lifetime member of the Petaluma Historical Museum and Heritage Homes, and the 1987 Petaluma Good Egg. You can reach him at skipsommer31@gmail.com.