You can't go home again

This post brought to you by the not-so-long-lost past, as viewed from Carlisle, Pennsylvania.  That's where I grew up.  We were back there for a visit in June and had a lovely time.  But it was a bit shocking to see how many things have changed, just since our previous visit (back in Fall of 2012, so not that long ago).

The first big site to see (or see no longer) was the big factory, Carlisle Tire and Wheel, that's in the block behind my Mom's house.  Here's the intersection one block away from her house:

Yup, that sign says "Factory Street," the street that runs right behind my mom's house. It maybe should now be called "Pile of Rubble Street," but I guess that's not really likely.

I don't actually have any photos of this factory, because it was the kind of thing I didn't really think I would need to have in a photograph.  Friends from my high school worked there sometimes during the summer, and many of my friends' parents worked there, too.  I mean, I figured it would always be there.  It's FACTORY street, after all.  And it's not just this little corner: it's a 9-acre parcel of land.  I didn't realize it was that big back then, but it spans several blocks that I walked every day to school.  Here's a map

So "B" is my Mom's house, and that huge rectangle in the middle is where the factory was (interesting that google maps shows nothing in that lot on the map, but the street view shows the factory there!).  Note: "Smitty's Homebrew Shop" was not there back then.  What was there was a small business run by a guy who fixed and restored player pianos and those crazy music machines that you hear/see when you ride a carrousel.  More on that in another post.

I did manage to find, on googlemaps, this photo of the intersection (the intersection I pictured above):

So that building was there last fall (and whenever it was that the google car passed by) but is just a pile of rubble now.  There's a whole website with updates on the progress of demolition, which you can check out here.  Apparently, there are plans to make a bunch of medical offices here, and also perhaps a senior living community of some sort.  There's a bit more about all that, plus pictures of it pre-demolition, here.

And here are a few more of my post-demolition (or should I say mid-demolition, since it's still not done):

So in addition to tearing down Carlisle Tire and Wheel, a few blocks in the other direction, they're demolishing Masland Carpets, another massive parcel of industrial buildings.  So here's the full map of destruction:

"A" is my mom's house, and you can see, on both sides, there are huge swaths of industrial land that are....well, who knows what they are actually going to become once the rubble is cleared.  There was a massive fire at the Masland site back in May of 2012, but the factory wasn't really in operation anymore.  It had been a big employer since it started in 1919, and I had a few friends who worked there at times.  There's some trouble with the demolition progress, which you can read about here, but apparently they're going to build a hotel and various other businesses on the site.

It's kind of shocking to see these things being torn down.  I mean, I wasn't really attached to them or anything, but they just seemed like they would always be there. Here's where progress was as of June 2013:

So in addition to these industrial sites, one more demolition hit a little closer to home.  This tree, in the backyard of my Mom's house, was the subject of an extensive report that I wrote in the third grade for Mrs. Drachbar (my totally awesome third grade teacher who I also ran into when I was visiting):

But despite its literary significance, the tree has been removed.  Sigh.  See here:

Now you see it (and me, frolicking in its leaves!):

Now you don't:

I should note that although I am happily raking leaves in that picture, at no point did I really enjoy raking leaves from that tree, except for when it was to make a pile to jump in.

 My Mom even got a few shots of the thing after they took it down:

It was huge.  But it was causing problems, including the fact that it was shoving its thirsty roots into the foundation of the house and wreaking some havoc there.  We're sad that it's gone, though.

But perhaps the most disruptive destruction I encountered on this trip was the shocking and outrageous discovery that our very favorite potato chips in the world -- Kay & Ray's -- have been discontinued, forever.  I'm really feeling bad about this one, because I even had a blog post in my head to write about them.  When we were in Carlisle back in the fall, we had bought a bunch of them (as we often do) and brought them back for various taste tests, gifts, and party fun.  I had a whole thing to say about their "dark" chips and whatnot, but now, they are gone.  And I can't even find the photos I had of them.  This one from the internets will have to suffice for now:

Kay & Ray's, RIP.

Well, as long as I'm being all nostalgic, I'll end with a favorite picture that I just scanned from the pile I brought home:

That's me and my brother and my grandparents' dog, Heddy.  Please note that I am rocking a Lehigh warm-up suit, and my brother is rocking the Lehigh hoodie with plaid pants.  There's no date on this photo, but I'd put it at about 1982/3-ish.

That's it for today's walk down Memory Lane, Carlisle.  Stay tuned for more updates from the past.

Just another day in the nineteenth century

So I had a fun day today at the American Antiquarian Society.  I don't have time to post everything, but I'll share a few highlights from the day's diggings:

I got an issue of Life in Lowell, a newspaper from 1843.  Here's the front page:

And just in case you wanted to know just how gnarly things were back then, check out this fabulous list of possible ailments (and thankfully, Dr. F. Morrill claims he can cure them all!).

So that's:

• Coughs
• Diarrhea Gravel (WHAT???? OK, I just looked that one up and it's two different things: Diarrhea [which I assume you understand] and "gravel" which is basically kidney stones.  So hey, nineteenth-century typesetter, how about a comma in there?]
• Rheumatism
• Female Debility
• Glandular Affections
• Effects of Mercury
• Strictures
• Piles
• Diseases of the Skin
• Cholera Morbus
• Scrofula
• all the various forms of Secret Diseases

 Truly, I can't believe anyone made it out of the nineteenth century alive.  Don't even google those.  You really don't want to know what scrofula looks like.

And if you are afflicted by ailments of the unspeakable sort, Dr. Merrill's other ad is addressed to you:

But perhaps most awesome was the broadside included along with it, memorializing the Fourth of July Parade held in Lowell in 1845.  It was in pretty rough shape (I am guessing it was actually somehow "restored" or "preserved" using a method that has only served to make it deteriorate more), but the images are still great.  I particularly like that it calls itself "A Family Newspaper -- Neutral in Politics and Religion -- Devoted to Literature, Education, Science, General Intelligence, and Amusements."  Awesome!  So basically it recounts the various groups/parties/individuals who participated in the annual parade, with fairly silly pictures of each, and quite a bit of commentary.

The reverse side was in even worse condition, but my attention was arrested by this particular pictogram:

Yes, Lucy Marshal!  Awesome!

OK, there's lots more, but much of it is in some very bad handwriting that I'll have to transcribe. Stay tuned for more Tales from the Nineteenth Century (TM).

There's a lot to like about Lowell.....Cemetery Edition!

Today I went on a tour of Lowell Cemetery. I'm just going to assume that any of you who know me will not have any questions about why this is something I would be doing.

Back when we lived in our old apartment, we used to walk there fairly often. I've also been there before with some of our visiting teachers to talk about Lowell history. There are a few fairly significant stones that are always great for teaching Lowell history. My favorite story of all of them is that of Louisa Maria Wells



This is the marker for Louisa Maria Wells, who died in 1886. She had worked in the mills in Lowell, and also brought her mother to Lowell to run a boarding house. She was an only child, her parents had died before her, and she was unmarried and had no children of her own. When she died, a sum of $8,000 remained in her estate and her will directed all of it to be used to erect a monument on her grave. But Wells’ remaining cousins contested the will, objecting to the considerable fortune being used for a grave marker for an unremarkable woman. The case dragged on in the courts for twenty years, at the end of which, the courts sided with Louisa. And in a positive turn to this sad tale, the money had been well invested and by 1906, when the matter was settled, the executor of the will was able to use the funds to commission Daniel Chester French – the American sculptor you likely know as the creator of the seated Lincoln in the Lincoln Memorial -- to create the gravestone. French himself did not complete the work; instead, he passed the project on to one of his female associates, Evelyn Longman, who would also eventually go on to create a monument in 1912 for the grave site of the 146 women killed in the fire at the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire. So many stories there, all tied up in this gorgeous, humongous marker. That's an angel standing above a mill worker -- the crouching woman is wearing a smock and holds a bobbin in her hand. It's about 15 feet tall and in a lovely spot. She was one of thousands of girls who came to the Lowell mills and worked in some fairly harsh conditions to make a better life. It's a beautiful memorial.

There are so many beautiful monuments in this cemetery, and so many stories, too.

I'm rather fond of the markers that are made in an over-the-top naturalistic style, like the ones that look like trees that have been cut down:



This one is particularly sad, since Edwin and Alonzo were each just one year old.

Then there are ones meant to look like piles of rocks:



A couple weeks ago we took Lucy and walked around there. Again, you know that's totally normal.

It's a really gorgeous place to walk, and Lucy was especially excited about the giant field of dandelions:



But she really liked looking at the stones and kept asking me to take her picture with them. Like this:




And she delightedly asked me to take a photo with these two, who she deemed "The Spiderweb Twins!"



I expect I will have to write a story about them.

Also, I am totally bringing back the name "Mehitable." Oh, and "Ballard." (see below)



In fact, I will go ahead and tell you that you should look for the Lucy-Bridget co-written book series of The Spiderweb Twins, featuring Mehitable and Ballard and their wacky adventures. Maybe we should put up the kickstarter on that now?

One of the most famous monuments is the Ayer Lion:



Lucy liked him a lot:



But for the most totally out there monument, I think I have to place my vote for this one:



Horace F. Ebert (1853 - 1893), I like your style!

That's it for today's installment, but I'll give you a little teaser for next week. Do you remember how last year, I spent a week in the nineteenth century? Well, it's not a whole week this time, but I'm going for the day to work at the American Antiquarian Society library on Monday. I will bring back some good stories, I promise.
 

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Adventures of the Amateur Archivist, Episode 3

Jake is off somewhere in Connecticut for the day, doing an insane bike ride. To pass the time during Lucy's nap, I'm here scanning stuff from the archive and filling up the recycling bin with the detritus of my kindergarden through eighth grade years.

I am about to trash in its entirety my "eighth grade journal." This is NOT the eighth grade journal full of dark poetry; rather, this is the journal that my 8th grade teacher required that we keep and actually read. So I think "journal" isn't quite the right word for it. It's filled with entries about what I was reading and what was going on at school and such. What I find amazing about this is that my teacher responded to EVERY entry in there. No matter how stupid it was. I cannot imagine the time it took for her to read all of this -- and not just mine, but everyone in my class! As I read it now, I am mostly embarrassed; I am seriously obsessively focused on every quiz, test, and report, and constantly worried about my grades. There's also an entry revealing my excitement about the haunted house I'm constructing in the attic of our house, and my excitement that I got a gift certificate to the local office supply store (woo hoo! markers!). Other than that, I worry about band (yes, I was in the marching band), talk about my science fair project. On the latter, I am upset because I did well enough in the first one to go on to the next level and "it's going to be a lot of work to collect more rain." Priceless. (the project was on acid rain.)

Anyway, the only page that was really worth scanning was the drawing my Japanese friend, Kimiko made, shown here:

Check out our over-sized 80s shirts. And hair. Nice. I haven't seen most of these people in many years; I wonder where they are now and what they would think if they stumbled upon this.

I know you're all wondering how I can stand the excitement of spending my Saturday sifting through my archives. The real excitement is tomorrow: we're going to see They Might Be Giants! I'm very excited. This will be Lucy's second time....wait, actually, this will be everyone's second time seeing them. As I type this, I am also listening to Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me (fairly typical Saturday activity) and the guests are....the guys from TMBG. They are doing the "Not My Job" quiz, which involves them answering questions about something outside their area of expertise. So since they are "They Might Be Giants," they are being asked questions about Andre the Giant. Brilliant.

So that's today's update. We'll try to get pix of Lucy at the show, but it will be hard to beat this one from the last time.