On the Road: Why Bother?

Driving out to Worcester the other day, I noticed this cheesy-looking cell-phone tower near the Charlton rest area. Instead of camoflauging the tower, the artificial, uniform-length pine branches stuck in its 'trunk' make it painfully obvious, and indeed, wincingly ridiculous. I made it a point to stop on my way back west to snap this blurry photo. Talk about fake fir.

Quabbin Gate 40: The Dana-Greenwich Road

The walk from the parking lot at Gate 40 to Dana common along the old Dana-Greenwich Road is without question one of the most interesting two-mile stretches folks will encounter in the Quabbin watershed.

History greets you immediately at Gate 40, the old stone foundation of Asa "Popcorn" Snow's home laid out just north of the parking area.

Snow is a favorite character of Quabbin storytellers, his eccentricities varied and numerous. His nickname stems from the claim that his diet consisted solely of popcorn. After his death, he was interred in a mausoleum he'd had built on this site, which was moved in the 1950s as a response to recurring vandalism. Snow was a wealthy money-lender and rumor has it that he had buried his riches somewhere in the area or might have taken them with him.

It seems fitting that one is greeted by the ghost of such an eccentric individual on a visit to an unequaled civic undertaking tackled by engineers for whom eccentricity was almost as prominent a personal trait as intellect.

Gate 40 is located in Petersham, Massachusetts, on the west side of Rte. 32a, also known as Hardwick Road. It's about 3 miles down on the right of 32a from Rte. 122 in the north. Coming from Rte 32 in the south, it's about 9 miles up the road on the left from where scenic Rte. 32a breaks off, not far after Dana Road on the right.

Keep my New England heritage in mind whenever you attempt to follow my directions. Always good to adhere to the old "second source" rule. Ay-yuh.

There is plenty of parking and a porta-potty inside the gate. There's also a porta-potty at the Dana Common. For some odd reason, neither outhouse is universally-accessible.

The old Dana-Greenwich Road. Follow this paved road for about two miles to Dana common. Asa Snow's home would have been off to the right. The stone foundation is still visible through the undergrowth from the parking area.

On old topographical maps, this road, not far up the road on the right as you start for Dana common, appears as Conyonker Drive. It's shown as connecting with Dugway Road in the north at one time, but now comes out to Tamplin Road, travelling in a northwesterly direction. If you take a left onto Tamplin at the end, this will lead you south to the Dana town common, from there you can hook up with the Dana-Greenwich Road back to the parking area.

In this photo the road looks pretty tame, but it does turn into trail not far into the woods, and the Tamplin Road Loop Hike itself takes a bit of time and endurance. I neglected to measure the distance with my pedometer when I hiked the loop, but if I were to throw a guess out there, I would say it's a five or six mile jaunt.

Even if you decide to stick to the pavement, take a short walk up this road. On the left, not far in, there is a small foundation. On the right is a beautiful field behind a nice stone wall.

An orchard on the north side of the road. For birders, Gate 40 offers a healthy population of a variety of animal and plant species. Deer are often seen alongside or crossing the road and coyote scat is common along the road.

Some foundations look like you could just level them off a bit, add a sill plate and start building. One can only feel admiration for the amount of work that went into the construction of these cradles of ghosts of the past. Man goes but the stone remains.

These rusted parts are the remnants of an old car or truck. Spring is a nice time to visit because the foundations are still easily seen through the trees and undergrowth. The MWRA has been hard at work recently clearing many of the small trees and brush from around various home sites. They also maintain the 're-claimed' fields on either side of the road.

Looking back down Dana-Greenwich Road towards the gate. Look in the sky for swallows around here, you're bound to see some. The road is mostly paved, with a few spots where the asphalt has deteriorated. The grade is a combination of level ground and undulating hills.

Bicycles may be ridden on paved roads - but not dirt ones or trails - within the public areas of the watershed.

Pottapaug Pond through the trees south of the road. Look in the treetops for sleeping porcupines around here.

Field on the north side of the road right before you reach Dana common.

For more on the walk to Dana Common, check out the EWM post, Quabbin Gate 40: The Road to Dana Common.

For photos of the Dana common area, along with more Quabbin informational tidbits, take a look at EWM's, Quabbin Gate 40: Dana Common.

And for lots of Quabbin links and resources, on-site and off, make sure to stop by EWM's The Quabbin Page.

As always, thanks for stopping by and take care.

Sacred Heart Church Gets A New Roof

Looks like Sacred Heart church on Chestnut street in Springfield is putting on its Easter bonnet early...

Stairway to heaven?

The peak seems to be missing a little something...

Like a cross...

And the stonework from its right side.

A better view of where the stones and cross were removed from the peak.

Ask not for whom the bell tolls...But if it's for me, take a message, I'm busy.

'Springfield Present and Prospective (1905), The Visible Charm, As It Was, Is, and May Be,' Excerpt IV

I hope you enjoy this segment of the book 'Springfield Present and Prospective,' which was penned by prominent Springfield residents, and published in the city in 1905 by Pond & Campbell publishers. The book was finely printed and engraved by a Springfield company, as well. The F. A. Bassette Co., established in 1898, will mark it's 110th anniversary of doing business in Springfield in 2008.

We continue with chapter one, 'The Visible Charm, As It Was, Is, and May Be,' written by Eugene C. Gardner. This is the second part of the second section, 'Plan of the Ground Floor,' titled 'Broader Outlooks.'

Continued from 'II. Plan of the Ground Floor, 1. The Inner Circle.'


II. Plan of the Ground Floor

2. Broader Outlooks

To pass around the circle once more, not in the electric chariot that clings to earth, but in one of the dirigible air ships that exist chiefly in the eye of faith, we shall see that the route just described is not merely a succession of arboreal and flowering parks diversified by water views and distant landscape, but an inner-urban highway much of the way, in fact a greater part of it, passing among the thickly planted and abundantly occupied homes which have given to the city its sentimental name; homes where the signs of good taste and good cheer are in constant evidence and which should be a pleasure to heart and eye even if there were not countless small parks and terraces converging wherever streets come together and where sufficient width has been taken to form parks or terraces through the center.

On this elevated excursion we can see and trace what may be called the side lines of the grand tour.

While waiting for the new bridge that will supplant the century-old wooden structure, the North-end bridge furnishes the first point of departure from the main line. When this was built it was thought to be a work of great extravagance, wholly exceeding all possible requirements and declared to be of sufficient size and stregth to sustain the entire population of Hampden county - which was probably true. Indeed, it may have done so many times over, though not all at once, for it is a great thoroughfare, constituting our principal highway, not only to our beloved maiden sister across the river, but to our more distant friends and family relatives, Westfield, Tatham and Holyoke.

The nearest west-side charms, after crossing the bridge, are the old West Springfield street with its over-arching elms and verdant turf, dewy and damp even at mid-day, Shad Lane, the old common, several rods wider than Court square and originally extending from the Connecticut river on the east to the wharfs at Agawam on the west, and nobody can remember how much farther. The wharfs have disappeared, the length of the common has been curtailed, but its width remains. The "Shad Laner's Meetin' road" is also the oldest and perhaps the most beautiful river-bank drive in Hampden county, besides being the fit approach to the commanding site of the home of the Country club.

Leaving the main road again at Glenwood where the Rockrimmon tract joins the Armory road, Springfield street beguiles us through the pleasant scenery of upper Chicopee, which would be literally under the shadow of Mt. Tom if the sun should happen to rise in the north, and thence, if we choose, swerving around to the right across to Chicopee Falls and the romantic country beyond.

Still swinging eastward we find the Watershops pond, whose picturesque northern shore is already accessible and which in the future will move slowly into the midst of the metropolitan district. Sometimes there may be viaducts across the upper part of this lake, but in this imaginary flight it is easy to cross without bridges, looking down upon Forest park and sailing over the lily ponds whose incomparable beauty and gracious perfume haunt us until we reach the classic shades and bucolic charms of Longmeadow.

Whether we depend upon the time-honored but now obsolescent modes of conveyance that require the combined service of horses and wagons, saddles and bridles, oats, stables and hostlers, or move swiftly and simply by means of scientific, up-to-date locomotive mechanism, the inter-urban boulevard in its actual condition, as shown by the first map or in the completed form of the second, will be a journey of at least a dozen miles and all quite within the thickly populated limits of the city. Extending the trip through the various side lines would of course add to its extent indefinitely.

What has been said of the residential portions of the Forest park region is generally true of other parts of the city. Across the river, at the "north end," in Brightwood, in other parts of Ward One and throughout what is commonly known as the "Hill region," carefully-kept lawns, ornamental shrubbery, and small decorative parks are frequently encountered, some of them, notably Calhoun and Merrick, already possessing marked and varied beauty.

To refer very briefly to what is perhaps the most important feature of the city, the one that indicates with most emphasis the degree of intelligence and public spirit prevailing, it may be said that the construction and final finish of our streets will probably continue to be, as it always has been, a matter for controversy and experiment. Considering the relatively large area of Springfield and the rapid extension of the suburbs in all directions impartially, our streets and sidewalks are usually well graded and paved, though by no means faultless. We are, moreover, in the most hopeful and fortunate condition possible for ignorant and erring mortals; we are aware of our sins, suitably ashamed of them, and honestly trying to outgrow them. Many of the streets are models of excellence, and the public demand for clean, well-paved thoroughfares ensures a constant improvement in this respect, for whatever value we may attach to the ornamental features of a house, a home or a friend, we know that "Thou shalt not be unclean" is one of the fundamental commandments.

Washington has been called the "Parlor City" because of its chronic state of preparation for ornamental social functions. Other cities, whose names may be guessed from their supposed tastes, might be considered dining-room cities; certain others, in the opinion of their neighbors, ought to be laundries; in the great national domicile, "Library cities" are happily numerous. For Springfield, which is and always has been industrious, democratic and cosmopolitan, no better designation, derived from domestic associations, can be given than "The Living Room" - the apartment which in the steady evolution of homes combines in itself the essential and happiest qualities of the more highly specialized and exclusive apartments. Bright, cheerful and sunny, free to all well-behaved comers, unhampered by troublesome conventionalities, with room and opportunity for industry, study, recreation and social enjoyment - what the generous living-room with its hospitable hearth and ready welcome is to the private dwelling, Springfield is in the larger home of the grand old Commonwealth.

Continued: 'Section III, Architectural Garments, Part 1, The Personal Equation in Houses.'

Sleds, Bridges and Steeples: Thoughts in Traffic

Driving down North Elm street in Westfield the other day, I noticed that the little hardware store at number 53 is closed, its facade taking on that dusty, dingy look that old buildings get not long after the bells stop jingling on their doors. Stopped at the light there, I drifted back 31 years. I bought my first brand-new sled at that store, with money I had gotten for Christmas. A double-runner American Racer for twelve-dollars and fifty cents. Plus tax. It was short and fast and great for belly-whompers, where you would run with your sled, throwing it ahead of you and flopping down on your belly on top of it in one fluid motion, maintaining your velocity for the utmost speed down whatever hill you happened to be king of that day. I still have the sled. I'm a little past the belly-whomper stage, though. I guess I hang on to it just in case.

Progress is the seed of nostalgia. Small stores of all kinds have begun disappearing in recent years because of the preference of consumers to shop the chains and the larger box outlets. Shops behind main-drag storefronts that were shiny and new at the dawn of the 20th century can't compete with them in selection or price. It is debatable whether that is a good or bad development in consumer trends, with proponents on both sides of the issue. It's hard to argue against saving a buck, but it was nice back in the day when the stores you patronized in town were the same ones your parents went to, and their parents before them. And the proprietors knew them all by name.

Unless you did something wrong. Then you longed for anonymity.

A city can't stand still, though. Unless you're in Westfield during rush hour trying to get across the Great River Bridge.

Traffic has notoriously backed up at this infamous bottle-neck for years. Almost as long as grand plans to resolve the issue have been floated in the air and come to naught. The $55 million Great River Bridge project, which is presumably on the verge of commencement, will help to alleviate this problem somewhat, with the proposed construction of a sister bridge downstream of the existing structure, which will carry three-lanes of traffic northward along Rtes 10 & 202. The original bridge will be gussied up and converted to three-lanes of southbound traffic. The new bridge will be built in truss structure style to match and complement the 1939-built Great River Bridge. In the 'it's a small world' category, the company my father-in-law worked for before he retired, J. F. White, out of Framingham, has been contracted to lead the project.

Chances are slim that anticipation of decreased profits due to disruptions in traffic during the bridge project prompted the owners of the hardware store to close it, but the project is not without casualties caused already. Blessed Sacrament church's empty steeple , its bell removed months ago, is a constant and stark reminder in passing of things to come. For parishioners and neighbors it may more likely evoke thoughts of what has been. Christenings and confirmations, weddings and funerals, folks will have only their memories and photographs of these special days as they pass by the spot where the church once stood, when it is finally razed for the roadway as planned. For now the steeple, barren and forlorn, draws the passers'-by eye, its emptiness out of place atop a House of God.

As the project progresses, two other buildings are slated to come down, along the north bank of the Westfield river between the Great River Bridge and it's future counterpart. A nice greenspace is planned for the spot, complementing the Women's Temperance Park on the west side of the Great River Bridge. A pedestrian and bicycle trail, the Columbia Greenway, is planned for the old train tracks cutting through the downtown and heading down into Southwick. As kid, I used those tracks to get around town just about as much as I used sidewalks. I can't wait to use them again. Sometimes progress gives us a nudge down memory lane. Or maybe just an excuse for sentimental fools like me to mark the time passing, and our lives changing as the world continues forward oblivious to what we've been or done. Our stories seperate treasures shared too infrequently, ever so sparingly, until we are gone, like buildings moved aside for the future's tread, our histories in snippets re-told.

The old hardware store and the block of buildings it is part of, some more than 100-years old, will stay put. In fact, the Valley Hardware building is for sale, or according to the website advertising the property, "aggressively offered at only $595,000." Who knows? Maybe the traffic enhancements will lead to a renaissance for the Depot Square area, which is home to some of the most beautiful buildings in the city. The store could become a gold mine with the right venue.

Despite all of the aggravation the estimated 4 - 5 years of construction will cause, I think this project will ultimately be a good start to resolving Westfield's 'suffocation by traffic', especially on the North side. An on-ramp to the Pike directly from the northbound lanes of 10 & 202 is an idea recently raised for the 'powers that be' to ponder, as well.

One group of folks that will undoubtedly be happy with the Great River Bridge Project is the 'distracted truck driver bloc,' the ones who manage to stuff their tractor trailers under the 11'5" railroad overpass despite signs posted well ahead of the trouble spot directing them to a detour and warning of the danger. The railroad viaduct will be raised to a height of 14'5" as part of the project, plenty of room for the average 13'6" trailer to slide under.

All of these improvements beg the question: What are Westfield folks going to do with all of the time they save once traffic starts flowing smoothly?

As always, thanks for stopping by and take care.

Tobacco Row Redux

Some young adults in Connecticut are doing a slow-burn over Monday's decision by the Connecticut General Assembly's Public Health Committee to consider a bill to raise the legal minimum age for the purchase of tobacco products to 21, with the goal of reducing smoking among teens.

Here's a link to yesterday's Yale Daily News article about the issue, 'Bill could raise smoking age to 21.'

Most local folks are aware of the tobacco plant's long and illustrious relationship with the Connecticut River Valley, a staple of the region ever since indigenous tribes first picked the naturally-occurring plant and tamped its dried leaves into pipes for smoking. Farmers began cultivating the plant in Connecticut in the 1600s, with the town of Windsor recording its first planting in 1640. Connecticut tobacco farming reached it's apex in 1921, with over 30,000 acres planted with broad-leaf 'shade' tobacco, the large leaves of which are used primarily as the outer wrappers of cigars. Production declined in the 1990s, falling as low as 2,000 acres cultivated in 1992. Views on tobacco use have contributed to the plant's demise, the long wide fields covered with the shade tents no longer a staple of roadside scenery on a slow summer Sunday drive through the Valley.

But these negative views are not new, no-siree Bob. As a matter of fact - in a case of 'deja vu all over again' - in the year 1650, the minimum age for using tobacco was set at 21, per regulation of the Connecticut Colony General Court. Looked down upon as an "evil weed" by the Puritans, the 1650 law was even more draconian than the one proposed Monday, permitting tobacco use over the age of 21 only under a doctor's recommendation. That may sound silly, but many folks throughout the ages have touted tobacco's medicinal effects, even using 'tobacco machines' - which blew smoke into the afflicted's lungs - to revive drowning victims. Perhaps a modern metaphor would be the marijuana debate, with lots of people okay with its use as a medicinal agent for the ill, just as long as the healthy folks aren't enjoying it, too.

Here's a cool website - http://www.tobaccohistsoc.org/index.htm - that can tell you a whole lot more about the history of tobacco in the Valley than I can. Better yet, check out the museum that owns the website, the Luddy/Taylor Connecticut Valley Tobacco Museum in Windsor, Conn. The museum just opened for the season the first week of March and will be open until mid-December. You can find details on the website. Operated as a joint project between the town of Windsor and the Connecticut Valley Tobacco Historical Society, the museum's mission statement reads:

"The John E. Luddy/Gordon S. Taylor Connecticut Valley Tobacco Museum collects, preserves, researches, exhibits, and interprets the scope of the tobacco industry in Tobacco Valley, which stretches from Portland, Connecticut, along the Connecticut River Valley through Massachusetts and the lower tip of Vermont. The museum seeks to preserve the artifacts and history of cigar tobacco agriculture before it is completely gone from the valley and to increase public awareness of the importance of the economic, political, and social impact of the tobacco industry on the history of this valley."

The future owes a tremendous debt to those who take on the mission of preserving yesterday today.

I can tell you this about tobacco, having spent my fifteenth summer working on a tobacco farm in Westfield, Massachusetts: It was the hardest, dirtiest job I've ever had...And I'm glad I did it. And, oh how times have changed. One day, during the last week of picking, one of the straw bosses came over to the bus as everyone was getting ready to board for the long, tired, sweaty, smelly ride home. He was carrying a clear plastic trashbag...Full of cigars, apparently our reward for being such good workers. From kids 14-years old, to married men with kids the same age, we all went home with pockets stuffed with the fruit of our labor, a cloud of cigar smoke following the bus as it pulled out of the dusty dooryard that day.

Here are some images of tobacco farming in the Valley from the American Memory Collection of the Library of Congress, from the Farm Security Administration Collection. Captions in quotes are the FSA's.

"Field of tobacco and tobacco barn near Warehouse Point, Connecticut." (Sept. 1940)

Under the nets. (c1935-1942)

Tobacco hanging to dry. (c1935-1942)

"Tobacco barn on a farm near Windsor Locks, Connecticut." (Sept. 1940)

"Tobacco barn on the farm of Mrs. Mary Smith, Polish-American tobacco farmer. Near Thompsonville, Connecticut." (Sept. 1940)

"Mr. and Mrs. Andrew Lyman, Polish tobacco farmers near Windsor Locks, Connecticut." (Sept. 1940)

Photo 1: American Memory Collection, Library of Congress, FSA-OWI Collection, Delano, Jack, Digital ID: fsa 8c03197
Photo 2: American Memory Collection, Library of Congress, FSA-OWI Collection, Digital ID: fsa 8c03194
Photo 3: American Memory Collection, Library of Congress, FSA-OWI Collection, Digital ID: fsa 8c03215
Photo 4: American Memory Collection, Library of Congress, FSA-OWI Collection, Delano, Jack, Digital ID: fsa 8c03209
Photo 5: American Memory Collection, Library of Congress, FSA-OWI Collection, Delano, Jack, Digital ID: fsa 8c03191
Photo 6: American Memory Collection, Library of Congress, FSA-OWI Collection, Delano, Jack, Digital ID: fsa 8c53005
Ad (top): Prints and Photographs Division, Library of Congress, c1874, Digital ID: cph.3g04307

Quabbin Gate 43: The Road to Greenwich Village

These photographs were taken last Spring on a rainy Saturday at Gate 43, in Hardwick, Massachusetts.

Gate 43 is an important area of the Quabbin Reservoir. The reservoir's baffle dam is located here, visible through the trees from the end of the public access part of the road. The dam is an integral part of Quabbin's 'from river-water to tap-water' process, serving as a natural filtration system by directing water entering the reservoir from the Swift-Wachusett Tunnel and the East Branch of the Swift River to the north, around Mt. Zion. The intake shaft drawing water from Quabbin on the beginning of its journey to Boston, Shaft 12, is located south of Gate 43. By the time the inflow of water from the tunnel and the river reaches this outlet on its circuitous route, much of the sediment and impurities have been removed, heavier sediment settling to the reservoir floor. For obvious reasons, these areas of Quabbin are highly restricted. The baffle dam system is built where Greenwich Village once stood.

The road at Gate 43 is paved, which makes it accessible to bicyclists, but there are some pretty steep hills as far as wheelchair access, etc. It's about a two mile walk from the parking area on Greenwich Road in Hardwick to the baffle dam, with amazing stone walls zig-zagging the forest on either side of the road. There are a few unpaved side roads to explore here, also.

Gate 43 is one of three boat launch access points on the Quabbin Reservoir and is often referred to as "Fishing Gate 43."

Hardwick is one of the most beautiful towns in New England.

Looking north up Greenwich Road.

Ice-foam pattern.

Entwined.

Barrels and stone walls.

Not much of a cascade for April.

The end of the road.

Where once humans trod...

Life is harvested.

Cans on a stone wall, foundation in the background.

The road home. Leaving the ghosts of the Swift River valley behind...

On the Road: Grizzly on a Garage

Sage advice in any century - especially with the mercury forecast to reach only the low teens with a brisk wind tomorrow. Makes a body wonder if hibernation maybe isn't such a bad idea after all...

"Sign on garage, Windsor Locks, Connecticut" (Russell Lee, Oct 1939)

Photo source: Prints & Photographs Div., Library of Congress, FSA-OWI, 1939, Digital ID:fsa 8a27326

Poem: 'Pelham Hills,' (1890)

Deep purple in the gray of morn,
Rose-tipped in radiances of dawn,
Flecked with soft shadows all the day,
And gilded in the sunset ray,
You tell the hours, as each fulfils,
Its measure, faithful Pelham Hills.

The springtime decks you with its green,
By summer turned to richer sheen;
The autumn paints you violet;
And winter's crown is on you set.
Each season clothes you as it wills, -
Herald of each, brave Pelham Hills.

But deeper yet your lifetide flows,
And unrevealed by buds or snows;
The narrow pathways 'twixt the pines,
The hollow where the lakelet shines,
Or where the brook its light song trills, -
There beats your pulse, fair Pelham Hills.

And they who know you, heart to heart,
Who've owned to you the joy, the smart,
Ambitions changing with the years,
Decreasing hopes, increasing fears,
Feel that you hold them, like the rills
Hid in your clefts, true Pelham Hills.

--Alice Ward Bailey

Published October 1890, The New England Magazine, Volume 9, Issue 2

Lunar Eclipse Photos, March 3, 2007

Lunar eclipse from Westfield, Massachusetts with overcast skies
(March 3, 2007, 8:38 p.m.)

Lunar eclipse from Westfield Massachusetts
(March 3, 2007, 8:41 p.m.)

'Springfield Present and Prospective (1905), The Visible Charm, As It Was, Is, and May Be,' Excerpt III

Here is another installment of EWM's book transcription series. Continuing the 1905 book 'Springfield Present and Prospective' (Pond & Campbell), this segment is from chapter one 'The Visible Charm: As It Was, Is, and May Be.' Here is section two of the chapter, 'Plan of the Ground Floor,' by Eugene C. Gardner.

Continued from 'I. Looking Backward, 2. From Center to Circumference.'


II. Plan of the Ground Floor

1. The Inner Circle

Thus far the heritage and natural endowment of Springfield and the general conditions of its earlier and unstudied growth have been briefly sketched. A more detailed study of what has been done that is of lasting value and worthy to remain as an essential part of the great and beautiful city that is to be, is also interesting and impressive. A fairly comprehensive showing in the way of park and boulevard achievement is given in the accompanying maps of the parks, large and small, that already exist, with the streets, actual and possible, that join them.

Starting from Court square (in one of the perfected electric automobiles that make no noise, never kill people or frighten horses, and leave no unpleasant reminder of their progress, but are not yet on the market because the demand is so much greater than the supply), it is necessary, in the absence of the river-bank improvement, to proceed northward through what is now the most important business portion of Main street, as far as Bridge, where we may turn to the right for a moment in order to get a glimpse of St. Gauden's tortoises, beside the globe instead of under the elephants that held it in place until Columbus discovered America. Nothing could be finer than the spirit of this sometimes unappreciated public square. Maintaining itself in the business heart of the city merely as an open breathing space, it is something to be devoutly thankful for. It also affords the most obvious opportunity, even superior to Court square, for the harmonious combination of beauty and business; an opportunity that can not long remain unimproved.

Back upon Main street, and going northward, we soon arrive at the arch, a utilitarian work of great dignity and beauty, the latter not always recognized because of its simplicity. If it were in an old city of France or Italy, Baedeker would give it double stars and American tourists would love to talk of it to their friends at home. A few blocks beyond the arch we find the southern entrance to Hampden park by way of Clinton street. When we reflect that more than one-third of the population in Springfield, not to mention Chicopee and the greater part of West Springfield, lives north of the Boston and Albany railroad, the exceeding value of Hampden park as a public playground is apparent. In its way no greater calamity to the entire city could happen than for the whole of this tract of land to be given up to railroad or other business purposes. Comparing its actual with its ideal condition, it is still in what may be called a chrysalid state. Everything in and about it is crude, coarse and rough, but its form and location are such that there is hardly a limit to its capacity for furnishing rest and recreation for the thousands of people who already live within easy walking distance of it, and the tens of thousands who find it easily accessible. Tracks for races, rings for circuses, grounds for baseball and tennis, room for Fourth of July celebrations, Sunday-school picnics, wheel tournaments, river-bank promenades, lovers' walks and fireworks; canoe wharfs, yacht landings and bath-houses - for all these and more there is room on Hampden park; and the importance to the city of this plot of ground, or a considerable portion of it, for these and kindred purposes, increases every year more rapidly than the city's growth.

Directly at the north of the park and on the bank of the river is a triangular piece of land, happily belonging to the city, of which much may be expected in the future. At present it is not even in the chrysalid state, but wholly chaotic - just a bare dumping ground. Even this is by no means unsatisfactory. The conversion of a worthless piece of land, by gradual means and without cost to the city, into a beauty spot is far more to be commended than the strenuous creation of a gorgeous garden by extravagant and hurried methods.

Here, looking westward, we see the sweet fields of West Springfield beyond the swelling floods that roll under the North-end bridge. But that is a side line, and in following the inner line of the chain, of which but few links are missing, we must turn eastward by Wason avenue where, after crossing Main street, we face the wooded bluffs of Rockrimmon. This large tract belonging to the Atwater estate has been virtually an open natural park for nearly half a century. It is wholly unadorned, some portions of it primeval, in fact, and thereby all the more delightful. There is no other spot within many miles of the city where, to judge from the natural conditions, the wild fox would be more likely to dig his hole unscared, where the deep forest song birds find themselves so much at home and where, not the real copper-colored flesh-and-blood aborigines, but their pathetic ghosts, would be more likely to revisit the glimpses of the moon.

This entire tract, keeping close to the Chicopee line, is full of picturesque revelations in the immediate surroundings and in the frequent views across and up and down the valley where the broad river gleams and glistens. When the roads passing through this tract are definitely located and perfected, as they are sure to be in the future, there will be no more charming suburban drive than through this part of the encircling boulevard.

After leaving the constantly varying bluffs and deep ravines of the Rockrimmon region and turning toward the south, we pass through and across the source of the city's first great public waterworks - great at the time they were undertaken - the Van Horn reservoir, as safely as Moses and his tribe passed through the Red Sea, and in far less time, unless we stop to admire the western view across the water or to walk around the borders of the upper portions. This is , in truth, one of the rare products which seem to have been fore-ordained for other purposes than those which ostensibly called them into existence. Primarily constructed as ponds to hold water to keep the people of the city from dying of thirst - than which no purpose could commend itself more highly to the most prosaic and utilitarian citizen - if the sole object had been to find a spot for a charming park of grass and trees and shimmering water, this could not have been surpassed. What the contour of the original ponds may have been I do not know, but as soon as the water was called upon to fulfill a high and holy mission - giving drink to those who were athirst - it immediately assumed all the airs and graces of a miniature Lake Winnepesaukee. Even the islands are not wanting, and a road winding around its bank - a thoroughly good road, such as are only found in really civilized countries - would be a thing of beauty and joy forever. But this road, like the next war, is not yet "fit." The drive along Armory street passes at the corner of Carew and Armory a five-acre park with its brook, trees and deep dingle, which has been wisely acquired by the park commission for the future use of the city. Half a mile farther we traverse the viaduct across the railroad and approach the ancient and beautiful thoroughfare of State street.

Fifty years ago Springfield people were fond of telling their friends of the enthusiastic praise bestowed by Thackeray on the view from the arsenal tower and this portion of the Connecticut valley. The view is the same; the arsenal grounds are undoubtedly more beautiful and impressive now than then, and if another distinguished foreign prophet, whom we should delight to honor, could be enticed to the top of the tower, he would surely revive our forgotten local pride. These broad and well-cared-for grounds belonging to the Federal government have always been a potent factor in establishing the claims of Springfield to a special external attractiveness. As the years go by, the worth of this national park will relatively increase, and more and more will State street become famous among the beautiful avenues of large cities.

Proceeding still farther southward, we reach the Watershops pond, another link in the circumscribing boulevard, although its complete exploration involves a wide diversion from the direct line to Forest park.

The residential portions of the Forest park region and the park itself remind us of the traditional ocean views, where sea and sky blend so imperceptibly that we can scarcely tell where the one begins and the other ends. There is a similar illusion here. The greater portion of this entire suburb has a park-like appearance in its private grounds, and we constantly find parklets and "terraces" at the junctions and in the center of the wider avenues. The park itself, extending more than a mile from east to west, is every year adding to Nature's legacy of beauty, and from the real bear's den at one end to the counterfeit presentment of McKinley at the other, music itself is not more redundant of charms for all moods and fancies.

Doubtless the home run from Forest park to Court square ought to be along the river bank; but the railroad at present has the right of way and we must take the inside track until the South-end boulevard, so well begun, is completed.

This general scheme, as shown by the first of these two maps, or something closely resembling it, is almost an accomplished fact. It has been the dream of the men who have done the most for local improvement, and can only fail of complete fulfillment through a fatal attack of sinister politics on the part of the city officials, or of grievous parsimony and Philistinism on the part of the citizens. It involves no large or sudden outlay, only the gradual working toward a definite goal, and each succeeding step in the progress, if wisely taken, would unquestionably pay for itself from the purely financial point of view in the enhanced value of the real estate along the route.

Next week: 'Section II, Plan of the Ground Floor, 2. Broader Outlooks.'

The Good Old Days: 1892...The Wonder of Electricity

Blurb spotted surfing:

"A correspondent thinks it is very strange that people are killed daily by electric wires which are apparently harmless, but that when a criminal is to be executed by electricity, it takes several shocks to produce death, according to the views of the newspapers."

--Manufacturer and Builder, Volume 24, Issue 5, May 1892

Cartoon source: Prints & Photographs Online Catalog, Library of Congress, Digital ID: cph.3b45414

Holyoke, Massachusetts: Mountain Park (c1900 - 1915)

The Restaurant-Mt. Tom Railway Station, Mountain Park, Holyoke, Mass. (c1905-15)

Before the days of the automobile, rail excursions to local parks served as welcome respite from the crowded cities. The street railways were happy to get folks' weekend business, as well. Many of the parks were in fact, "created-destinations" originating from that very idea, called "trolley parks." Mountain Park was one of those destinations, opened by the Holyoke Street Railway Company in the early 1890s.

The Entrance to Mountain Park, Holyoke, Mass. (c1905-15)

A casino greets visitors to the Park.

Lily Pond, Mountain Park, Holyoke, Mass. (c1905-15)

The Summit House atop Mt. Tom is in the center background of the photo.

Lily Pond, Mountain Park, Holyoke, Mass (c1905-15)

Folks used to wear their finest on an outing to the park.

Mountain Park from the East, Holyoke, Mass. (c1900-15)

Links to more sites with Mountain Park photos and info:
Mountain Park Timeline, etc.
Karen & Jay's Amusement Page, Mountain Park
Mountain Park, defunctparks.com
Tunnel of Laffs, Mountain Park

Photo 1: American Memory Collection, Library of Congress, Detroit Publishing Co., Digital ID: det.4a23772
Photo 2: American Memory Collection, Library of Congress, Detroit Publishing Co., Digital ID: det.4a23766
Photo 3: American Memory Collection, Library of Congress, Detroit Publishing Co., Digital ID: det.4a30166
Photo 4: American Memory Collection, Library of Congress, Detroit Publishing Co., Digital ID: det.4a23770
Photo 5: American Memory Collection, Library of Congress, Detroit Publishing Co., Digital ID: det.4a10376

Happy Birthday, Dr. Seuss!

Theodor Seuss Geisel (c1957)
March 2, 1904 - September 24,1991

Chestnut Junior High Going Condo

The planned $259 million dollar expansion of Baystate Medical Center, announced two weeks ago, is certainly a welcome shot in the arm for Springfield, and especially the North end. Who would have guessed the booster-shot would come so soon?

Chestnut junior high school, once a magnificent edifice of education, now shuttered and fading fast, will soon be restored to its former grandeur. Or at least into some nice, market-priced condos in a cool old building. Mayor Charles Ryan and David Panagore, director of economic development for the city, this week announced the selection of Miramar Real Estate Management Inc. as the city's choice of two bids received to rehabilitate the building, which has been growing cobwebs behind plywood windows since 2004. With 100% private funding, Miramar plans on converting the 104-year old school - which had a build cost of $135,961 in 1903 - into 110 one and two-bedroom condominium units, representing an expected investment in excess of 30 million dollars.

The two projects, BMC's expansion and Chestnut's condos, seem a perfect match, with BMC's plans to add more than 500 new faces to its already almost 3,800 strong workforce. Faces who need places. (Ouch.)

There wasn't much private interest in the project initially, if the turn-out for the tour of the building given by the city to interested parties on September 13th of last year is any indication. Other than Miramar's rival bidder, HAP Inc., the taxpayer-funded regional housing provider, only two other people showed up, both representatives of the New North Citizen's Council.

Chestnut was originally built to serve as a grammar school, during a frenzy of school-building that occured in the city at the dawn of the 20th Century. Classical, Technical, and Forest Park were a few of the schools built in this era of rapid growth. The city's investment in educational infrastructure during the time period spanning 1888 to 1904 - the years of Dr. Thomas M. Balliet's tenure as school superintendent - was reported to be over one million dollars.

On a personal note, my two youngest sons attended Chestnut junior high school in the 1990s and were members of the last student body of the school and the first student body of the new school on Plainfield street. The building was kept open as a site for alternative education programs for a time after, until it was ultimately closed, being declared unfit for use.

And now: life.

Here's the Republican/MassLive article on the announcement from yesterday, Heather Brandon's piece about it on Urban Compass, and a post at Bill Dusty's Earth to Bill with some up-to-date photos of Chestnut school.

I posted here about Baystate Medical's plans a couple of weeks ago with 'Just What the Doctor Ordered.'

Photo source: American Memory Collection, Library of Congress, Detroit Publishing, Digital ID: det.4a23743. (Chestnut street grammar school, c. 1905-1915)

Morning in Springfield

I snapped this photo yesterday morning from the 291e on ramp off 91s. No, I wasn't driving at the time. I had to let go of the wheel to take the picture. Just kidding. Maybe.

Springfield, Massachusetts (March 1, 2007)

"How to Live on $15.00 a Week."

It's always good to have a budget...

Souvenir plaque, "Springfield, Mass." printed upper right. (Date unknown)

On the Road: Bull on a Barn

"Painting on a barn near Thompsonville along Route 5. Connecticut." (Jack Delano, 1940)

Picture source: American Memory Collection, Library of Congress, FSA-OWI, Digital ID: fsa 8c03214.