tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24367760006195074992024-03-06T04:11:42.325-05:00The Oral History ProjectSponsored by Friends of the Greenwich Libraryoral history adminhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00231094595333269577noreply@blogger.comBlogger59125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2436776000619507499.post-60969650138759303302024-01-30T20:38:00.000-05:002024-01-30T20:38:07.185-05:00<h1 style="text-align: left;">Ernest Thompson Seton</h1><div><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">In 1902, a
few rambunctious, somewhat unruly, children painted the iron gates of a private
estate in Cos Cob with “all kinds of things that never should have been put on
a gate with paint.” This singular incident may be viewed as the beginning of the
formation of the Boy Scouts of America in 1910.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><o:p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfg_ie8tQOe79oMQqWHO0XrhiewKCNBS1rB2TuD-r_0pEwA8rsNcfpQIo31H9V-CwYGuqwDBCZ2R-wwAeW2INWi0ItL2n45xMJ7jq5KjrM0F46dBSv4MLjgzKdTvTj8UgacPhWYOB0pgYJclpVRYVIDHuKci4sLKDQ9OZkVjrWwoK3rE25OjMb0u_Sq4nD/s916/Ernest-Thompson-Seton-03.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="916" data-original-width="671" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfg_ie8tQOe79oMQqWHO0XrhiewKCNBS1rB2TuD-r_0pEwA8rsNcfpQIo31H9V-CwYGuqwDBCZ2R-wwAeW2INWi0ItL2n45xMJ7jq5KjrM0F46dBSv4MLjgzKdTvTj8UgacPhWYOB0pgYJclpVRYVIDHuKci4sLKDQ9OZkVjrWwoK3rE25OjMb0u_Sq4nD/s320/Ernest-Thompson-Seton-03.jpg" width="234" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Ernest Thompson Seton, from "By a Thousand Fires," by Julia Seton. <br />Copyright 1967 by Julia Seton. <br />Reproduced by permission of Doubleday & Co., Inc.</i></td></tr></tbody></table></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">The gates
were located at the entrance to a 100-acre estate on Orchard Street, known as
Wyndygoul, that belonged to Ernest Thompson Seton, who had purchased it two
years earlier.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Instead of calling for
severe consequences for the young perpetrators, Ernest Thompson Seton must have
decided instead that these children didn’t have enough productive ways in which
to spend their idle hours. He visited Cos Cob School and spoke to some boys,
inviting them to his property for an overnight stay during Easter vacation. One
of them was Leonard S. Clark, ten years old at the time, who was interviewed by
Oral History Project volunteer Penny Bott in 1975. He proclaimed at the time of
his interview, “ . . . honestly and truthfully, I didn’t do it (paint the gates!).”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfTXyKCNh1EaNU2HRaY13t1NDReyLJhmdTolacIHg_LmMGnyFhUKKIilCHc8RWveWz1xDr7ZIflU7ZLumW9Z3QD12xTej0DIishowpbPkcnPgGboDTlQ-D7TL5W-DHZQI0kyHrwn5L6_Z4a-gy8eHGcw86Yi1RpLTDKl9uvkB1AqCVQfliTp0v8zw-crMP/s1271/Young%20Sinaways%20and%20Their%20Tepee.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1271" data-original-width="866" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfTXyKCNh1EaNU2HRaY13t1NDReyLJhmdTolacIHg_LmMGnyFhUKKIilCHc8RWveWz1xDr7ZIflU7ZLumW9Z3QD12xTej0DIishowpbPkcnPgGboDTlQ-D7TL5W-DHZQI0kyHrwn5L6_Z4a-gy8eHGcw86Yi1RpLTDKl9uvkB1AqCVQfliTp0v8zw-crMP/s320/Young%20Sinaways%20and%20Their%20Tepee.jpg" width="218" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Boys by their tepee at Wyndygoul.<br />Courtesy of Charles A. Clark</i></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Leonard
had clear memories of that first overnight at Wyndygoul (a Scottish name
meaning Windy Gulch). “I remember distinctly that we were told to bring along a
blanket, so that we could sleep in a tent that night.”</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Mr. Seton’s “tent” was, in reality, “an
original Indian teepee that Mr. Seton had bought somewhere from Indians and
brought with him to Wyndygoul.” That night, by the light of an open fire, “Mr.
Seton told us stories. . . . When he told us stories about the Indians . . .
everybody paid attention. Not only paid attention, but we were just entranced
with his talking. . . . Nobody ran around, nobody left, nobody turned their
heads, nobody spoke. . . . He spoke of the Indians as outstanding individuals.”
In addition, the boys were given advice about values, “about fair play, about
never lying. He looked down on an individual if you told a falsehood. . . . We
were taught always to tell the truth.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><o:p> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3-1RLSy0FB6vb5tQaC2PFgApPtAkSd0FyEBs5XfnHtKnog4PLmCKBC524ly4LH5hEfZSp0RrgXAwB-PHp_YLPsQwlazruNHoV9_VmaI2hkDxdQ-NugJelUdD6HO66zCb3vGnCYTJf5uv0zoMyxoiOLY9LumfZcLjOnVyFcp8q3TGjO5Rl52rd_9okYzHk/s1172/Target%20Practice.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="719" data-original-width="1172" height="196" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3-1RLSy0FB6vb5tQaC2PFgApPtAkSd0FyEBs5XfnHtKnog4PLmCKBC524ly4LH5hEfZSp0RrgXAwB-PHp_YLPsQwlazruNHoV9_VmaI2hkDxdQ-NugJelUdD6HO66zCb3vGnCYTJf5uv0zoMyxoiOLY9LumfZcLjOnVyFcp8q3TGjO5Rl52rd_9okYzHk/s320/Target%20Practice.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Ernest Thompson Seton teaching archery, from "By a Thousand Fires," by Julia Seton.<br />Copyright 1967 by Julia Seton.<br />Reproduced by permission of Doubleday & Co., Inc.</i></td></tr></tbody></table></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">At the
close of that first night’s camp experience, Mr. Seton invited the boys to come
back in the summer for a longer stay. The boys were to be called Woodcraft
Indians and given Indian names. Clark’s name was “Broken Arm.” Their activities
were chosen primarily to enhance their knowledge and skills of life in the
woods. One involved swimming across the lake, which was about a hundred yards.
“We ran races for which we got what he called a ‘coup.’ A coup was a feather
that we could put in our hair . . . and, if you did particularly good, on the
upper part of the feather was a little white thread that he had put on, and
that was a grand coup.” They also raced around the lake “for the hundred yards
and then we had the two-twenty races.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span><o:p></o:p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjktcvU4hXatS798CdBGNt0qIV0Gui-oa55rVurfFKc6xG2GiFoOsILwyTMnPiNo-WHsBojUTm2jJvceNjc6v5u4Y-47e0XTGV4bNCb781Pbh68vxC2zN0y-fvtD7mEhYzMjMQEFHHwSc_VenllDyLHP2QvS6ZwMwP5wwl8hSdgrqJuP4lBfK6lkkJOdqcI/s1344/Starting%20a%20Fire.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="917" data-original-width="1344" height="218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjktcvU4hXatS798CdBGNt0qIV0Gui-oa55rVurfFKc6xG2GiFoOsILwyTMnPiNo-WHsBojUTm2jJvceNjc6v5u4Y-47e0XTGV4bNCb781Pbh68vxC2zN0y-fvtD7mEhYzMjMQEFHHwSc_VenllDyLHP2QvS6ZwMwP5wwl8hSdgrqJuP4lBfK6lkkJOdqcI/s320/Starting%20a%20Fire.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Ernest Thompson Seton teaching fire-making, from "By a Thousand Fires," by Julia Seton.<br />Copyright 1967 by Julia Seton.<br />Reproduced by permission of Doubleday & Co., Inc.</i></td></tr></tbody></table></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">A favorite
game was the “deer hunt” in which one boy was elected to be the deer and given
a head start. He would wear shoes onto which iron hoof forms, resembling deer
hoofs and made by a blacksmith, were fastened. Off he would go over hills and
rocks, trying to elude the “hunters” who followed the tracks until the “deer”
was found to great elation. “It was an honor to be the deer, and we all wanted
to be the deer, and Mr. Seton would change around so we would all have a
chance.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">The next
year, Mr. Seton invited the boys to return “and then it grew, and all the Cos
Cob boys came,” eventually including other boys from Greenwich. Ernest Seton
taught the boys lessons which resonated with them throughout their lives.
“Everything Mr. Seton taught us had something to do with . . . the development
of fine young men, in every sense of the word. . . . He was teaching us
honesty. . . . He was teaching us to be a team, to play together. He was
teaching us of manhood that was to come, and he was teaching us the worth of
outdoor life. . . . Everything that you can think of that’s good.” In addition,
“There were no harsh words, no swear words. Swearing was one of the things that
you just didn’t do. . . . While we were having a good time, in reality he was
teaching us the proper things in life.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Ernest
Thompson Seton was a member of the Camp Fire Club of America and invited that
group to come to Wyndygoul to observe the Woodcraft Indians. He also wrote a
book entitled “The Birch Bark Roll of the Woodcraft Indians,” which delineated
in great detail the rules, goals, games, and activities of the program he
created. Sir Robert Baden-Powell of England, who authored “Scouting for Boys” and
organized the Boy Scouts in England, was impressed and influenced by Seton.
“But where we were called Seton Indians . . . he called them Boy Scouts.”</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><o:p></o:p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJLjl_5RXDaiw5QdA-uPBEc7w1m_S_8w2N0zA5JGesoWgwMwa3HBl-wwD6NN0NnvW0chQbF7L5muSty4FRuxCRTc5XNP98r5YRmsTD5C6imkkJlyvtdMeAPeeEvovOg5DskY6EK9JD_VfHs7T3SPzjivJfdQ8QgFb_MuIEOpQZ1Agxu0H-_m3D2jUJq42F/s1096/Leonard%20S%20Clark.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1096" data-original-width="750" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJLjl_5RXDaiw5QdA-uPBEc7w1m_S_8w2N0zA5JGesoWgwMwa3HBl-wwD6NN0NnvW0chQbF7L5muSty4FRuxCRTc5XNP98r5YRmsTD5C6imkkJlyvtdMeAPeeEvovOg5DskY6EK9JD_VfHs7T3SPzjivJfdQ8QgFb_MuIEOpQZ1Agxu0H-_m3D2jUJq42F/s320/Leonard%20S%20Clark.jpg" width="219" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Leonard S. Clark<br />Courtesy of Maryanne Gjersvik</i></td></tr></tbody></table></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Leonard
proudly stated, “So the Boy Scout movement that’s over the world today . . .
came from England back to us. . . . And so the first Boy Scouts in the United
States were the group in Cos Cob under the leadership of Mr. Seton. . . . I
attribute the good health, the fine characters we had . . . to the outstanding
training Mr. Seton gave us boys in Cos Cob.”</span><b style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span></b><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">The
interview <b>“</b></span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Seton’s
Indians<i>” may be read in its entirety or checked out at Greenwich Library and
is available for purchase at the OHP office. The OHP is sponsored by Friends of
Greenwich Library. Visit the website at glohistory.org. Our narrator’s
recollections are personal and have not been subjected to factual scrutiny.
Mary Jacobson serves as blog editor.</i></span></p><br /></div>oral history adminhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00231094595333269577noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2436776000619507499.post-19296035571304485952024-01-16T22:14:00.000-05:002024-01-16T22:14:17.154-05:00<h2 style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;">YEARS AGO IN GLENVILLE</span></h2><div><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: medium;">“The whole
town was like a big<br /> family. We shared each other’s joys and sorrows.” Frances
Chmielowiec Geraghty, on three separate occasions in 1975/76, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>was interviewed by Katherine Scanlon of the Greenwich
Library Oral History Project to capture memories of a lifetime in Glenville.
She had much to tell about a life that had its share of hardships and setbacks,
but was remembered by the joy and comfort of a loving and large family.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg68OfzSDbgDtqKj3ZCqKQ1X0uiUdPLeCYmunFdIJ8w9Ay1Vp6o_441_4UIpy98JW96h6XZJEo8k407HhF2gbYFYYHAvmVvsJlnb_rrDhKn3Gq-JB-CmQiZT5xw64EIhVlv2VSOv4OVObfoN9rtJ8iJniAD71cgSq-a3gzdFjMTlf6PXnO7T8rRzQEzFgj2/s2830/Frances%20Geraghty-BW-Crop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2830" data-original-width="2112" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg68OfzSDbgDtqKj3ZCqKQ1X0uiUdPLeCYmunFdIJ8w9Ay1Vp6o_441_4UIpy98JW96h6XZJEo8k407HhF2gbYFYYHAvmVvsJlnb_rrDhKn3Gq-JB-CmQiZT5xw64EIhVlv2VSOv4OVObfoN9rtJ8iJniAD71cgSq-a3gzdFjMTlf6PXnO7T8rRzQEzFgj2/s320/Frances%20Geraghty-BW-Crop.jpg" width="239" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><em style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-size: 16px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Frances Chmielowiec Geraghty photo by Karl Gleeson<br />Courtesy of Oral History Project.<br /><br /></span></span></em></td></tr></tbody></table></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: medium;">Frances
was the third of ten children born in 1907 to Polish immigrants. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“They had such large families. Everybody had.
I don’t think there was any with less than five.” According to Frances, “We
were all Polish-speaking people. . . . There was a great crowd (of immigrants)
that came at once; we were all growing up together.” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: medium;">Glenville
was largely a company town. “Almost every house in Glenville was owned by the
American Felt Company.” Rent of a dollar a room was paid to the AFC. Families
who managed to snare a house with multiple bedrooms would rent them out to
boarders for extra cash. “I don’t know anyone in Glenville that started with my
mother’s crowd that didn’t end up owning their own home . . . without asking
anyone’s help.” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAGCdOkxVhwsNjjeDTWjBzbFnqobg41QCqwXwSPT_blzp6AvcYWVrLy3edS6Q-GxioB7nQycMpeW8Ee06N9Dz9G3Xg9sfHNJRYOsqaHDELjpWiYS20qmsu8AyU2EBCVePqGbqgfoY0ZW8aGosuxY7J8UfT05fmkmBH9RkoSnJw7efN72fLHi80F06wbnbl/s1339/Geraghty%20-%20family%20photo%20-%20Copy2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1339" data-original-width="1049" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAGCdOkxVhwsNjjeDTWjBzbFnqobg41QCqwXwSPT_blzp6AvcYWVrLy3edS6Q-GxioB7nQycMpeW8Ee06N9Dz9G3Xg9sfHNJRYOsqaHDELjpWiYS20qmsu8AyU2EBCVePqGbqgfoY0ZW8aGosuxY7J8UfT05fmkmBH9RkoSnJw7efN72fLHi80F06wbnbl/s320/Geraghty%20-%20family%20photo%20-%20Copy2.jpg" width="251" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "Open Sans", sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: italic;"><em style="box-sizing: border-box;">1908 photo of the Chmielowiec family with sisters Mary and Eleanor and adopted son, John. Frances is seated on a cushion on the floor. <br />Courtesy of Frances Geraghty.<br /><br /></em></span></td></tr></tbody></table></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;">There was
a strong sense of community among these young immigrants. Families grew their
own vegetables and many owned chickens and pigs. “There was always an exchange.
If you didn’t have a good crop of one thing and the other did . . . you just
didn’t refuse anyone. . . . People were closely knit in those days.” Frances
remembered that her father would be asked by “the people from the country,
upper King Street” to help fulfill their needs of a seamstress, a cook, or a
milkmaid.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;">He would then investigate
which ships were coming into the Port of New York, hitch up the horse and wagon,
and ride down to the docks. As the passengers stepped off the ship, her father
would shout, “Who can cook? Who can sew? Who can take care of horses?” Soon he
would have a wagon-load of young people who stayed with them until they procured
jobs.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></p></span></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: medium;">In those
early days of her life, Frances remembered that there was no electricity.
“Don’t forget there was no water in Glenville either . . . no water till after
I was married (in 1930). . . . Every bit of water had to be brought into the
house, pumped in. My mother with ten children on wash day was really
something.” In addition, “Everybody had an outdoor privy; and you weren’t
embarrassed about it because everyone else had one, too.” Proudly, she stated,
“Well, we had the best one in town. We had a five-seater.” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHHi-KMuYtOVyfqKbT-kMH-5yzzWFdFdji7___jQs_-kMUp6cu9-BWyaoUfHpTtTpdAm8wsfuzQro3CZS5agdmA1Xmq7Yr-Y73Gwv-9OWihTJo5ycc7GRsRKaifn8V0xV9wl9XLCtT3cagy2f8GjzRXhyphenhyphen8RJhUwLgrvJ2IuyJzDVJWYYniFaY5EdJr7kgk/s1025/Geraghty%20-home%20.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1025" data-original-width="786" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHHi-KMuYtOVyfqKbT-kMH-5yzzWFdFdji7___jQs_-kMUp6cu9-BWyaoUfHpTtTpdAm8wsfuzQro3CZS5agdmA1Xmq7Yr-Y73Gwv-9OWihTJo5ycc7GRsRKaifn8V0xV9wl9XLCtT3cagy2f8GjzRXhyphenhyphen8RJhUwLgrvJ2IuyJzDVJWYYniFaY5EdJr7kgk/s320/Geraghty%20-home%20.jpg" width="245" /></a></td></tr></tbody></table></p><figure aria-describedby="caption-attachment-123984" class="wp-caption aligncenter" id="attachment_123984" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #444444; font-size: 16px; margin-bottom: 1.25rem; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; max-width: 100%; width: 650px;"><figcaption class="wp-caption-text" id="caption-attachment-123984" style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-style: italic; line-height: 1.4; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><em style="box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The house, owned by the American Felt Company, in which Frances Geraghty was born in 1907. Her father’s general store occupied space in front of the building (not visible). Courtesy of Frances Geraghty.</span></span></em></figcaption></figure><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">News
traveled in a different way in those da</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">ys when people did not have telephones.
“There was a very unusual way of gathering people.” Someone with “a very fancy
bugle with tassels hanging” would stand in the center of town and blow it. “ .
. . everybody came running from the hills or they sent the children out.
‘What’s the matter? What’s the matter?’” The bugle was blown when the First
World War ended. It also announced when someone had died or if an important
meeting was to take place.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: medium;">As Frances
reminisced, she said wistfully, “I don’t think anyone today can visualize or
comprehend a life like this. . . . You have to remember the quietness of the
town. . . . You heard nothing except the humming of the felt mill, and that
would be down toward the river. There were no airplanes, no traffic, no cars. .
. . You could hear crickets, locusts, maybe a cow mooing or a rooster crowing.
Those were the only sounds we heard. The smells were beautiful. You could smell
sweet hay and strawberries.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: medium;">Frances
remembered making deliveries by horse and wagon with her father from his
general store to customers on Porchuck Road, Round Hill Road, and Banksville.
In the summer, they would leave at 4:30 in the morning. “I remember coming back
home at dark, at night. Sometimes my father would fall asleep and the horse
would bring us home.” In the 1930s, the A&P came to Glenville; her dad
could not compete with their prices and eventually closed his store.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: medium;">The onset
of the Depression led to difficult and challenging times for Frances and her
family. “Bill and I got married at the height of the Depression (1930). There
were no jobs. There was nothing; no money. . . . My mother had seventeen people
in the home. My father was making a dollar a day for the WPA (Works Progress
Administration) building the Glenville School playground. . . . There was
nothing to do but go and do domestic work. . . . I had dresses that were
somebody else’s and coats that didn’t fit.” Frances and Bill, who was
recovering from tuberculosis, lived with her parents for a time. Eventually,
Bill got a job as a plumbing apprentice for eleven dollars a week and they were
able to rent a tiny house near her parents. “It had no water, no lights, and,
of course, no heat.” They preferred to call it their “honeymoon house.” “Yet,
somehow,” Frances said, “through all that, you had your garden and you had a
few chickens.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You survived. And we had
each other which was the main thing.” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: medium;">Economic
circumstances improved for them with the onset of the Second World War when she
and Bill obtained jobs with Electrolux in Old Greenwich. At the time of her
interview, Frances worked at Town Hall. As she looked back on her life and
times, Frances stated, “. . . they were rough times, but they were happy days.
. . . Those were the good old days.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: medium;">The interview
“Years Ago in Glenville – Frances Chmielowiec Geraghty” may be read in its
entirety at Greenwich Library and is available for purchase at the OHP office.
The OHP is sponsored by Friends of Greenwich Library. Visit the website at
glohistory.org. Our narrator’s recollections are personal and have not been
subject to factual scrutiny. Mary Jacobson serves as blog editor.<o:p></o:p></span></i></p><br /></div>oral history adminhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00231094595333269577noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2436776000619507499.post-28145862210007640762023-11-06T16:34:00.001-05:002023-11-06T16:34:23.315-05:00<h2 style="text-align: center;"> THE CLAM BOX 1939-1985</h2><div><h3 style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">A Beloved Local Business</span></h3><h4 style="text-align: center;"><p style="text-align: left;"></p><div><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">In 1939,
Anna and George Gross rented a two-car garage on Salem Street and East Putnam
Avenue in Cos Cob and opened the original Clam Box restaurant. It had a few
stools in front and a take-out counter and was to serve customers in the
summers only. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">According to their son,
Arthur Gross, interviewed by Penny Bott-Haughwout of the Oral History Project
in 1986, “My parents started the original Clam Box restaurant with four hundred
dollars… They painted the building white. They put an awning in front of it.
They bought several truckloads of oyster shells which was put on the ground and
then crushed by a crushing machine. And that became the area where people ate
in their cars or ate at the stand.”</span></span></p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-weight: normal;"><div style="text-align: left;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn9XoHAuBgcqi5WnkWkcHNuUaGX0T9ZuX8ZEb1z_o1WB8PwgVbarUhe26SuBIJB6TDiuHp5t4t8KHPpb_qEkdi8n14ivqIPq_Zmxa-PJ2Nb5HF9c89BFyxofMMZFmeCQHIoH7VjCEsD0JRA-0SYA6VRdni3txur-X0-r0fVNCL3-FB9y3rbV0buxH7Tb9J/s1599/OriginalClamBox.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1112" data-original-width="1599" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn9XoHAuBgcqi5WnkWkcHNuUaGX0T9ZuX8ZEb1z_o1WB8PwgVbarUhe26SuBIJB6TDiuHp5t4t8KHPpb_qEkdi8n14ivqIPq_Zmxa-PJ2Nb5HF9c89BFyxofMMZFmeCQHIoH7VjCEsD0JRA-0SYA6VRdni3txur-X0-r0fVNCL3-FB9y3rbV0buxH7Tb9J/s320/OriginalClamBox.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Original Clam Box<br />Photo courtesy of Greenwich Library Oral History Project</i></td></tr></tbody></table><br />Business
was good---so good, in fact, that “my father made more money in three months in
Cos Cob than he’d made all year in New York (at his NYC spot called Cooper’s
Fish and Chips near Grand Central Station). Shortly thereafter, the New York
City restaurant was closed and George Gross “devoted one hundred per cent of
his time in Cos Cob.” After the first year, Anna and George bought the building
and opened the Clam Box year-round. Eventually, they built on both sides of the
existing main stand and it became a restaurant of about 250 seats.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-YMVknKGUBZoJut7UdJUTXeQvzA7fRx788MijmEp39QMF9-m2Mcqr15n1Ja9YKgV1tvw-02w7QNv9Hjc83WOCB6lqT9dDWxSzJAT0Kf_lHdaDSMrOYCaM9sKiMKVHG7sQ3R18V_a4AYFCWhL4ulVuUmjwIo4DK7xPuTTF8JYK1QL-fN7T5yC3iDwGJ5K8/s2309/Menu-pg%201.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2309" data-original-width="1856" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-YMVknKGUBZoJut7UdJUTXeQvzA7fRx788MijmEp39QMF9-m2Mcqr15n1Ja9YKgV1tvw-02w7QNv9Hjc83WOCB6lqT9dDWxSzJAT0Kf_lHdaDSMrOYCaM9sKiMKVHG7sQ3R18V_a4AYFCWhL4ulVuUmjwIo4DK7xPuTTF8JYK1QL-fN7T5yC3iDwGJ5K8/s320/Menu-pg%201.jpg" width="257" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The Clam Box menu, front cover</i><br /><i>Photo courtesy of Greenwich Library Oral History Project<br /><br /></i></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">What was
the “secret sauce” to this successful small business? According to Arthur, “ .
. . nobody had any seafood items cooked the way we did. The frying was
completely new to this New England area… Our kitchens were open to the public.
People got the aroma of the cooking. And the fact that we fried at such high
temperatures . . . at 375 degrees, they were seared very quickly. An order of
fried clams would take thirty or forty-five seconds in these special cooking
machines that we had.” Fish and chips were also cooked at a high temperature and
“ . . . in a matter of three or four minutes, we’d have a magnificent piece of
fish cooked, very crispy on the outside and very moist on the inside.” Everything
was cooked to order.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></span><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-weight: normal; text-align: left;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="font-weight: normal; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEov2gW7s_hDNkqk_oljwBD5q9XgiS-PXRMyfXxtVzYb4Pn0k2tDdSgm7K1sXhrsbSrGeFT1r_ptemzS_SDw7UoQ7OzqWI2tMY59bK0TVpkZNKDBM4IwhHRdcyhSolRb_YhzsFe82A-oPHLb2D8uJn0F9Ye_Ep8JGzbk5lX5m4_sR-7Nq8NYpMOJC_sc-l/s2262/Menu-pg%204.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2262" data-original-width="1806" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEov2gW7s_hDNkqk_oljwBD5q9XgiS-PXRMyfXxtVzYb4Pn0k2tDdSgm7K1sXhrsbSrGeFT1r_ptemzS_SDw7UoQ7OzqWI2tMY59bK0TVpkZNKDBM4IwhHRdcyhSolRb_YhzsFe82A-oPHLb2D8uJn0F9Ye_Ep8JGzbk5lX5m4_sR-7Nq8NYpMOJC_sc-l/s320/Menu-pg%204.jpg" width="255" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The Clam Box menu, back cover</i><i style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />Photo courtesy of Greenwich Library Oral History Project<br /></i></td></tr></tbody></table></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-weight: normal; text-align: left;">Of course,
the high quality of the food was fundamental. “We sent a man from Greenwich to
New York City five mornings a week . . . to the Fulton Fish Market. He used to
leave here about quarter of three o’clock in the morning… The fish was
delivered to Cos Cob like ten o’clock in the morning, and it was served that
evening.”</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJRslA7MfLaQx2Sp6bWbfAX1QtKBaZ44_4u6jWEky8A4takNe3H-Aqd9i5k6Hh3kTghSQ6Dc_EdUOSFtImi_6AouPJHBLVJDRPqH1RZ8n830hLWy06Qs-ykWWfQXO9miopksuEpc0pMeF_Jvvj3F5yGflMdn8Q3XWZVRKuztjkpRAUxfNsAGbyDL_drbKm/s2266/Menu-pg%202.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2266" data-original-width="1827" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJRslA7MfLaQx2Sp6bWbfAX1QtKBaZ44_4u6jWEky8A4takNe3H-Aqd9i5k6Hh3kTghSQ6Dc_EdUOSFtImi_6AouPJHBLVJDRPqH1RZ8n830hLWy06Qs-ykWWfQXO9miopksuEpc0pMeF_Jvvj3F5yGflMdn8Q3XWZVRKuztjkpRAUxfNsAGbyDL_drbKm/s320/Menu-pg%202.jpg" width="258" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The Clam Box menu, inside left</i><i style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />Photo courtesy of Greenwich Library Oral History Project<br /></i></td></tr></tbody></table><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-weight: normal; text-align: left;">How about
the prices? The original Clam Box menu in 1939 lists “Silex coffee with cream” for
five cents. “People remembered the fact that they got a good cup of coffee.” In
addition, “Bottle Grade A Milk” was ten cents; clam chowder, fifteen cents; fish
and chips, thirty-five cents; oyster stew, forty cents. The “Clam Box Special” with
half cold lobster, crabmeat, shrimps, and clams was ninety-five cents.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNVPkmQDvSL0UJNyOfPrUo0a1xc7MVG7gMR1ZrmAbYr-aptL-Ojsd9Q91_4E1rSu3cboHQOpqASMmUwziqHgan4Ajjff63BAqdSig6Z9vZbMxvO__8T1WnLDwhcZcQmUpAbniH5DlbepMUSIlsQpgeBr1BsL3NedLC3XnYlBEWyLUPiXLczd-BI3VSK4na/s2266/Menu-pg%203.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2266" data-original-width="1827" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNVPkmQDvSL0UJNyOfPrUo0a1xc7MVG7gMR1ZrmAbYr-aptL-Ojsd9Q91_4E1rSu3cboHQOpqASMmUwziqHgan4Ajjff63BAqdSig6Z9vZbMxvO__8T1WnLDwhcZcQmUpAbniH5DlbepMUSIlsQpgeBr1BsL3NedLC3XnYlBEWyLUPiXLczd-BI3VSK4na/s320/Menu-pg%203.jpg" width="258" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The Clam Box menu, inside right</i><i style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />Photo courtesy of Greenwich Library Oral History Project<br /><br /></i></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-weight: normal; text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: left;">Customers,
mostly locals at the time, had a different cycle to their daily lives in those
early days. In the summer, before television and air-conditioning, “a man would
get in the car and take a ride with his wife and they’d stop off for fried
clams or fish and chips at our type of a restaurant. We also found that we were
busier late in the evening---this would run until two in the morning.”
Post-WWII, with the advent of television, people tended to stay home in the
evenings. “Our business changed rapidly… After the war we never stayed open as
late as we did prior to the war.”</div></span><p style="text-align: left;"></p><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-weight: normal;">George and
Anna believed in their business. “Every dollar they made they reinvested back
into the property, and they managed to survive, and it was quite successful
after the second year.” In 1947, the Grosses purchased another building, with
four hundred feet frontage on East Putnam Avenue in Cos Cob, in which the Clam
Box remained until 1985. Fortunately, the property also allowed for enlargement
of the restaurant facilities.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-weight: normal;"><div style="text-align: left;">“By enlarging the kitchen, we were able to
purchase additional equipment to make the same recipes… We were able to handle
the many thousands of people that we did serve in the summertime… We had a
wonderful reputation. We had the nicest people in the area coming out to
dinner.” Arthur was proud that a family could be well-fed for under ten
dollars.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0KPUcVE1IPaunfUyHW9nS9aEp_2aV5qYZgpwdhP2GeyccY5oxhG7Wg-BAbarv-DDj0zsCjohzONeBiJysbTpvQBHaPwVmZIYNjZTDcd5LI3MlrsrcQlV7sCsdMPIodYTBBMxeimonMYIPoaEqB_8OcGBBkpLSrG_dMsrZb7BIYfwpAqB49XMjweDD488j/s5190/Clam%20Box%20Exterior.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3738" data-original-width="5190" height="230" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0KPUcVE1IPaunfUyHW9nS9aEp_2aV5qYZgpwdhP2GeyccY5oxhG7Wg-BAbarv-DDj0zsCjohzONeBiJysbTpvQBHaPwVmZIYNjZTDcd5LI3MlrsrcQlV7sCsdMPIodYTBBMxeimonMYIPoaEqB_8OcGBBkpLSrG_dMsrZb7BIYfwpAqB49XMjweDD488j/s320/Clam%20Box%20Exterior.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The Clam Box, expanded capacity, outside<br />Photo courtesy of Greenwich Library Oral History Project<br /></i></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-weight: normal;"><div style="text-align: left;">In 1963, with
additional storage space made available for produce and seafood, the restaurant
could serve five hundred and fifty patrons “plus the take-out business.” A
bakery was also now contained on the premises in which fresh rolls, pies,
cakes, puddings, éclair shells, and more were prepared. Over one hundred and
thirty staff were employed. Arthur boasted that “ . . . we must have had
seventy-five working here more than five years . . . and another ten or fifteen
who worked here for twenty years or more.” </div></span><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGKdfSkLrw0LRWRmGceQ2cRfzWIKrPLRsa1Heg5c8PYhY8Cpa4F3bq7f1Xlem0LcTRiyDpDzN2d1KZ6e2PWEbtVtpb1SV75M3t2C-Bb4YDKzwWqTMg_E5DNnw4ekU4-y76CJOq8Vgj3JGyfWn4ylHJFjpR85PcqT9mPAgH4_gP6Pyb7DHZrHoLtybAegA9/s5367/Clam%20Box%20Interior.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3558" data-original-width="5367" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGKdfSkLrw0LRWRmGceQ2cRfzWIKrPLRsa1Heg5c8PYhY8Cpa4F3bq7f1Xlem0LcTRiyDpDzN2d1KZ6e2PWEbtVtpb1SV75M3t2C-Bb4YDKzwWqTMg_E5DNnw4ekU4-y76CJOq8Vgj3JGyfWn4ylHJFjpR85PcqT9mPAgH4_gP6Pyb7DHZrHoLtybAegA9/s320/Clam%20Box%20Interior.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-style: italic;">The Clam Box, expanded capacity, inside</span><br style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-style: italic;" /><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-style: italic;">Photo courtesy of Greenwich Library Oral History Project</span><br style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-style: italic;" /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-weight: normal;">Arthur’s
parents retired in 1957. His father George passed away in 1960. Arthur and his
wife, Priscilla, managed the business from that time on. Arthur himself had
worked in the restaurant from the age of 14 in 1939 to age 60 in 1985. “If
people wanted to find me, they could reach me at 9:30 in the morning, and I was
here until sometimes 9:30 at night, and I was here many a time seven days a
week.” In 1985, the decision was made to close the restaurant and “sell the
property, distribute the proceeds (among the corporation of family members),
and go our separate ways… It’s the end of an era.”</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN_PDAFpqJUaSuozhFfPFgn86E2_qJAp5rv6XpTd91jJlTy8-IvKx4fj-weAAl16E06AaMh2esLqHfcDg_dle-nDB0DNEutgLmpJFNxVIW_FbRsS9qSx-rZ5KOtb7KOtPmf7U9KqapZN6LT9UMcgRPtk9fkki9T3LMCCU0ioY5ja1ITBZlqru02-7s1pNZ/s1660/Postcard-01-Side-A-Color.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1084" data-original-width="1660" height="209" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN_PDAFpqJUaSuozhFfPFgn86E2_qJAp5rv6XpTd91jJlTy8-IvKx4fj-weAAl16E06AaMh2esLqHfcDg_dle-nDB0DNEutgLmpJFNxVIW_FbRsS9qSx-rZ5KOtb7KOtPmf7U9KqapZN6LT9UMcgRPtk9fkki9T3LMCCU0ioY5ja1ITBZlqru02-7s1pNZ/s320/Postcard-01-Side-A-Color.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-style: italic;">The Clam Box postcard</span><br style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-style: italic;" /><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-style: italic;">Photo courtesy of Greenwich Library Oral History Project</span><br style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-style: italic;" /></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-weight: normal;"><div style="text-align: left;">Arthur did
have to admit that occasionally he would see some tempting restaurant locations
in town. “I’d come home and say to my wife, ‘You know, we could go back and
open up another little stand again and just sell clams and shrimp and fish and
chips.’ And she’d say, ‘No way, Buster.’”</div></span><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><i style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-weight: normal;"><div style="text-align: left;"><i>The
interview of Arthur Gross appears in the Oral History Project book entitled “</i>The Clam Box and the Food Mart<i>.”
It may be read in its entirety at Greenwich Library and is available for
purchase at the OHP office. The OHP is sponsored by Friends of Greenwich
Library. Visit the website at glohistory.org. Our narrator’s recollections are
personal and have not been subject to factual scrutiny.</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>Mary Jacobson, OHP blog editor.</i></div></i><p></p></div><p style="text-align: left;">
</p><p></p></h4></div>oral history adminhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00231094595333269577noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2436776000619507499.post-6548502776161767132023-10-04T17:42:00.000-04:002023-10-04T17:42:32.088-04:00<h2 style="text-align: center;"> COS COB IN THE 20s AND 30s</h2><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Cos
Cob is a close-knit, self-sufficient community within Greenwich with its own
identity. With Long Island Sound to its south and the Mianus River to its east,
it resonates with water views and a rich, nautical history that dates to the
eighteenth century. It was also home to the Cos Cob Art Colony, the first
impressionist art colony in Connecticut, which flourished in the late
nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. This hamlet includes the sixty-one-acre
Montgomery Pinetum, its own neighborhood library, restaurants, and shops. Many
of these enterprises are located in “the Hub,” the commercial area at the
intersection of Strickland Road and East Putnam Avenue.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;"> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYOQzQ1em_965wYBm7nmNTAwS7cXCOghIW1rkGArSX0w31UksgSINwsW6Qpo_OlHtz2XFqIS22slncw9xMdl4XVFV8IweVpYfsjqqT2f7iSbgN-Rb0esd1mpvbDIoGAMGcY-9_-l3ogBVmwuYhyCuHA-AUNxcwTkMBlQtGv01WlQEiXYc1SB4ylbddpwwT/s2074/Gertrude%20Riska5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2074" data-original-width="1516" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYOQzQ1em_965wYBm7nmNTAwS7cXCOghIW1rkGArSX0w31UksgSINwsW6Qpo_OlHtz2XFqIS22slncw9xMdl4XVFV8IweVpYfsjqqT2f7iSbgN-Rb0esd1mpvbDIoGAMGcY-9_-l3ogBVmwuYhyCuHA-AUNxcwTkMBlQtGv01WlQEiXYc1SB4ylbddpwwT/w146-h200/Gertrude%20Riska5.jpg" width="146" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;"><b>Gertrude Riska</b><br />Photo courtesy of Greenwich Library Oral History Project</span></i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Gertrude
O’Donnell Riska, born in 1920, has vivid memories of growing up in Cos Cob in
the 20s and 30s. She shared her reminiscences with Marcella Raphael of the Oral
History Project in 1993. In her interview, she chose to take the reader on a
walk describing the sights and sounds that she experienced approximately one
hundred years ago. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">The
Cos Cob neighborhood she described had no traffic lights on Post Road with “few
cars. . . I would say if there were twenty cars in an hour on the Post Road,
that would be a good amount.” Policemen stood in two sentry boxes to help
residents cross the street and walked the street each evening “to make sure
that the business people had secured their door for the night.” She observed, “There
weren’t too many wealthy people in Cos Cob. It was more a working-class town.” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;"> <br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">As
a child, Gertrude remembered shopping for food “just about every day because
you didn’t have freezers or refrigerators. You had the old-fashioned ice box where
the ice man brought your block of ice if you put a sign in the window and told
him to stop with it.” McKinley’s Meat Market was a frequent destination. “He
had a huge, giant icebox and every time you wanted a pork chop or something. .
. he’d disappear, and the door would slam shut, and then in a minute he would
come out with a whole big piece of meat and cut the pork chops or whatever. . .
He’d have to return it right away back to this refrigerator. . . they had huge
hooks that they hung (meat) on.” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;"> </span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMXJz8mhckfu90WzLllsCmPDbKBAWJuNoPHrr4TWlnB99tlfsvOHTwyQaAK3QmO1VNBv8_yKSGzs7SBi5FL8ao9yXoqaH6zyJOKKsAwssMT-BM6gfA4sdtwJRKKonlXLEGYlBnrJPTbY1pO9OYUNXXfyYa3ZYMT1k4lyBCnJTKtDFmNjZZ9oAB6pRLlCEQ/s2439/Streets-Strickland%20Rd%20to%20Post%20Rd5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1483" data-original-width="2439" height="195" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMXJz8mhckfu90WzLllsCmPDbKBAWJuNoPHrr4TWlnB99tlfsvOHTwyQaAK3QmO1VNBv8_yKSGzs7SBi5FL8ao9yXoqaH6zyJOKKsAwssMT-BM6gfA4sdtwJRKKonlXLEGYlBnrJPTbY1pO9OYUNXXfyYa3ZYMT1k4lyBCnJTKtDFmNjZZ9oAB6pRLlCEQ/s320/Streets-Strickland%20Rd%20to%20Post%20Rd5.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;"><i><b>Looking from Strickland Road to the Post Road</b><br />Photo courtesy of Greenwich Library Oral History Project</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Down
the adjacent driveway, was a “tiny-weeny store” operated by Gussie Feldman.
Gussie had a large number of children and no employees. “When you entered the
store, you’d hear a little bell go ding-ding. . . Pretty soon she’d look
through the upstairs window and say, ‘All right, I’ll be right down’. . . Today
we’d leave someone in the store with the cash register. But, those days, you
didn’t.” Gussie “sold everything from thread to sneakers to odds and ends. . . She
did a good business on the Fourth of July. We all went over there and got
rockets.” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Gertrude
remembered the first A&P housed near the old Cos Cob School in a block of
stores built by “a very well-known builder, Mr. Schubert.” Unlike today’s
supermarkets, it was a very small store with a counter on one side and, on the
far side, canned goods on shelves. “You dared not take anything off the
shelves.” Instead, you would wait your turn and ask for each item. “The
salesman would walk around the counter, go to the far side and get the can of
what you wanted, go back. . . He would write the price of each on a brown paper
bag. It was very time consuming.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 14pt;"> </span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiREjyKmmc9r5zslyFYg4ww24cE-0AykHmM5ps6r1yBjpv7qWaA4iN0aMI7YWEGTBTyW86XczWQKPP71lM3tNxzKn3iMeoRjAQhy4nzs3pvkXPKycjtTGFrSFMvpkyFY52HG-Xx9rE-kwkLBEhBWyooygi35ArPYAQ3KeRF0wA8_VB4t_4m3vorapBNxLK-/s1477/Clambox5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1003" data-original-width="1477" height="217" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiREjyKmmc9r5zslyFYg4ww24cE-0AykHmM5ps6r1yBjpv7qWaA4iN0aMI7YWEGTBTyW86XczWQKPP71lM3tNxzKn3iMeoRjAQhy4nzs3pvkXPKycjtTGFrSFMvpkyFY52HG-Xx9rE-kwkLBEhBWyooygi35ArPYAQ3KeRF0wA8_VB4t_4m3vorapBNxLK-/s320/Clambox5.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;"><i><b>The Clam Box</b><br />Photo courtesy of Greenwich Library Oral History Project</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">A
favorite spot, Gertrude stated, was The Clam Box. “Everybody knows The Clam Box.
. . It was almost across from about where the car wash is” on Post Road. “It
was really a little square kind of a shack” run by the Gross family in the 30s.
“Even people from New York would come up to the Clam Box. . . the food was
really good, and the price was good.” Originally, they “had maybe two stools. .
. but later they added on. They made it much, much bigger.” Eventually, it
closed and was torn down. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Where
the Mill Pond Shopping Center exists now, Gertrude states, “That was just all
wetlands. It was just an empty swampland with the tide coming in and out almost
up to the Post Road.” At the end of Mead Avenue, there was one roadway “that had
been filled in with rocks and extended out into the channel.” Gertrude and her
friends would walk out there to an area known as Lockwood’s Dock and swim. “Then
you came out in your wet bathing suit and back down across Post Road. . . It
was just a normal thing to do, and that was the only place that you could
swim.” Between Mead Avenue and Relay Place was a little white building called
White Castle Hamburgers. “They were five cents each. . . For a quarter you got
five, and they were delicious.” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;"> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO0dR-YZ2h_HulxL6uauZeoHfRP8oM8w7XkiDIl4e9-mhmKJaTJLZ-NX7yrek3UimTPVao2zxfhSFFNbUpLJDdF27CJO7yWUMqwh8qQafxh5twaDSReURSuNHp-JabRFTq3FmEoA0N51L__n5YTAcZvE8u-_ee7nMVdyRbult3CJJ6q9EfHRlNNgWlnA-3/s1223/CC-School5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="748" data-original-width="1223" height="196" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO0dR-YZ2h_HulxL6uauZeoHfRP8oM8w7XkiDIl4e9-mhmKJaTJLZ-NX7yrek3UimTPVao2zxfhSFFNbUpLJDdF27CJO7yWUMqwh8qQafxh5twaDSReURSuNHp-JabRFTq3FmEoA0N51L__n5YTAcZvE8u-_ee7nMVdyRbult3CJJ6q9EfHRlNNgWlnA-3/s320/CC-School5.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;"><i><b>Cos Cob School</b><br />Photo courtesy of Greenwich Library Oral History Project</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Of
course, school was the center of activity in Gertrude Riska’s life. “. . . the
Cos Cob Library (was) contained in it, to the left of the front door.” The
school was also the setting for country fairs and annual Halloween parties. The
fireman’s carnival was held in the school to make money to maintain the
firehouse. “It was one of the two events that the whole town waited for. They
had the usual booths with spinning wheels and prizes. But the real exciting
thing was the dance floor and the Fireman’s Ball.” Gertrude’s father was chief
of the Cos Cob Fire Department. “We waited practically breathless all year for
that Fireman’s Ball. . . The jitterbugging hadn’t come in, but they were doing
the waltzes. It was just nice.” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;"> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgbGN9oXAQTerPq9Moc5eSk1fKT9WiUMWQdV3W78RXhmwVZbJPWvhYwuHRvlB5jBbFIciNWWvItJO5UnuD4MWmTsEYlQ3NWIa8iS7bH4oySFqRh0FrxK0nXIg5oF8QFNGPPSpbRT8hwk5L9yLXw4G15VKYdMSIZQ5a2AoxYzjZk8TjFquVtWI0sKPg88ct/s1580/Firetruck5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1076" data-original-width="1580" height="218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgbGN9oXAQTerPq9Moc5eSk1fKT9WiUMWQdV3W78RXhmwVZbJPWvhYwuHRvlB5jBbFIciNWWvItJO5UnuD4MWmTsEYlQ3NWIa8iS7bH4oySFqRh0FrxK0nXIg5oF8QFNGPPSpbRT8hwk5L9yLXw4G15VKYdMSIZQ5a2AoxYzjZk8TjFquVtWI0sKPg88ct/s320/Firetruck5.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;"><i><b>An Early Cos Cob Fire Engine</b><br />Photo courtesy of Greenwich Library Oral History Project</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Gertrude
was particularly proud of her father, Lewis O’Donnell, and his involvement with
the nascent Cos Cob Fire Department, founded in 1922, in addition to his work
as chief electrical engineer at the Cos Cob Power Plant. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Gertrude’s dad and some of his friends worked tirelessly
to convert a donated touring car into a pumper for the fire department as “they
didn’t have the funds to go out and buy the proper engines.” When their task
was accomplished, “it was a great, wonderful thing for the fire department to
have this unique automobile or pumper.” Meetings were originally held in the
second floor of the Taylor barn. However, soon after, letters were written to
potentially wealthy donors to help construct a proper firehouse. Eventually, a
temporary firehouse was built in 1924 [next to where the present firehouse is
now].</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;"> </span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiME7TH0BREbHP4c8CLFzX6vw98lRosFJ4p4HOF-e4OyySFEzszYJVeeWU37h6Zt4Dumd9W4Q7vs2qocAR0dweer81-csxT9ydPfpa043SbASCSTZh1fGSsAaKejXR5gaOBJ30X1Emw3q41cf-BTOPb53MoPejS-7_wHgwMrk-Jc8x8J4uTbAhZXvwYiU_A/s1193/CC-Fire%20House5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="813" data-original-width="1193" height="218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiME7TH0BREbHP4c8CLFzX6vw98lRosFJ4p4HOF-e4OyySFEzszYJVeeWU37h6Zt4Dumd9W4Q7vs2qocAR0dweer81-csxT9ydPfpa043SbASCSTZh1fGSsAaKejXR5gaOBJ30X1Emw3q41cf-BTOPb53MoPejS-7_wHgwMrk-Jc8x8J4uTbAhZXvwYiU_A/s320/CC-Fire%20House5.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;"><i><b>Cos Cob Firehouse</b><br />Photo courtesy of Greenwich Library Oral History Project</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Gertrude
Riska continued to live in Cos Cob until her death, at the age of 96, in 2016.
She taught piano to hundreds of students in her home on Orchard Street and
played the organ in churches until the age of 92. She and her family’s legacy
contributed much to her community in Cos Cob as well as to the town of
Greenwich.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt;"> </span></p><p>
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">The interview
entitled “</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">A Walk Through Cos
Cob in the 1920s and 30s<i>” may be read in its entirety at Greenwich Library
and is available for purchase at the Oral History Project office. The OHP is
sponsored by Friends of Greenwich Library. Visit the website at glohistory.org.
Our narrator’s recollections are personal and have not been subject to factual
scrutiny. Mary Jacobson serves as blog editor.</i></span></p>oral history adminhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00231094595333269577noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2436776000619507499.post-59836727726696941192023-08-12T17:21:00.001-04:002023-08-12T17:21:26.916-04:00<h1 style="text-align: center;"><b> <span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; text-align: center;">THE TREES OF
GREENWICH AVENUE</span></b></h1><p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">Dutch Elm Disease
first made its appearance in Glenville in Greenwich in 1933. Discovered in the
Netherlands fifteen years earlier, it made its way to America through shipments
of logs infested with the European elm bark beetles. As the severity of the effects of the disease
on elm trees became more and more apparent throughout Greenwich, and in an
attempt to stop the spread of infection, aggressive attempts were made to
identify, remove and destroy hundreds of these beloved elms that graced our
public streets.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="831" data-original-width="600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfpQ49rwqRo3aYqwcm1ijLZdyFiZBNw3S8BAZ824vwCLBb4jA3vZGQ7VqRvCUiYTl0zf_tQjal_tMdKb3YJipAlXL1F4AmKNtZI2xr8m-oOAEEHxH0jV2pQovqN4_zk0I8gVWBnmJGyDaWbooV2caGuzxjlWu9NP3yvhX2lan7vjqFK3YNJLF0EAYwjtGo/s320/Howland,%20Gertrude%20du%20Pont-2.jpg" width="231" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Gertrude duPont Howland</i></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Enter Gertrude duPont
Howland who noticed in the 1940s “that on Greenwich Avenue the beautiful elm trees
that used to be up and down the Avenue were being taken down one by one. . . They were cutting off the trunk as low as they could get it and then cementing
over the area, and that was it. Nothing new was being planted. And as one tree
after another came down, there was nothing.”</span></p><p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Gertrude Howland
decided to make it a personal crusade to bring attention to the “absolutely
bare-looking” condition of the Avenue. Oral History Project volunteer Margaret
French interviewed her in 1987 to document Howland’s relentless efforts to
replant the Avenue. Contacting Joseph Cone, “head of the parks and trees
department at the time,” Howland was told that “the reason he couldn’t plant
any more trees, to replace the ones taken down, was that it was far too
expensive to dig out those huge roots, and that he didn’t know where else he
could possibly plant them.” There were concerns about disrupting utility
services “which largely ran down in the street and branched out into each
building on each side.” Howland was told that there was no comprehensive map of
the location of the different utilities.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj--ZNBq--flCqzFQv5MUV4kXM-0Zfd40sr3XaHfvBFRJzfj6F7NJW2A6jxIOQahmsEuRD87yErsspTPA1SwBR2qaAOS2PFokc94PW8GXtX5-b2SnGnkJoF25ymAACNhqmteMP-F53PRu6ZzRKYie3mPsrJMYmVDMDoBqipEino6qXcospYYlkb-OQSCw2U/s3600/Gwh%20Ave%20from%20Lewis%20St-2.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2909" data-original-width="3600" height="259" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj--ZNBq--flCqzFQv5MUV4kXM-0Zfd40sr3XaHfvBFRJzfj6F7NJW2A6jxIOQahmsEuRD87yErsspTPA1SwBR2qaAOS2PFokc94PW8GXtX5-b2SnGnkJoF25ymAACNhqmteMP-F53PRu6ZzRKYie3mPsrJMYmVDMDoBqipEino6qXcospYYlkb-OQSCw2U/s320/Gwh%20Ave%20from%20Lewis%20St-2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Looking down Greenwich Avenue from Lewis Street</i></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Faced with these
challenges, Howland decided to enlist the help of Green Fingers Garden Club to
“simply trot out to the head offices of each of the utilities (electric,
telephone, water and gas), get their maps and reduce them to the same scale,
superimpose them on each other and presto! You’d have a real master plan of
Greenwich Avenue.” This was a monumental and, ultimately, impossible task. The
water company “didn’t have the slightest idea.” The electric and telephone
company had sketchy maps “but they were the best they had.” The most
discouraging response was from the sewer and drain department who said “some of
those things went back to colonial times and were undoubtedly made of wood.”
There were “no records. . . And the only way they ever found out was when
something broke.”</span></p><p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Cone advised her to engage
an engineer to examine the basement of each building on the Avenue in order to
make a record of where the utilities enter from the outside. Howland approached
Willard DeVaul of S. E. Minor engineering firm in Greenwich, and he not only
agreed to do the job, but he did it for free. DeVaul believed the project was
worthwhile and “he seemed to enjoy doing it. The three of us (including Bea
Rogers, another member of Green Fingers) had a real nice time because some of
those basements were perfectly fascinating. What you found there!”</span></p><p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">This aspect of the
project took a number of months. However, when the drawings were presented, yet
another stumbling block to planting trees surfaced. They were told “that with
all the increasing traffic up and down Greenwich Avenue, no tree would possibly
live, and it was silly to spend money on planting something that was certainly
going to die.” Undaunted, Howland solicited help from the Bronx Botanical
Garden “to come out and advise us. . . We got a man, and he went up and down
Greenwich Avenue with us, and he was terribly supportive and pleased at our
idea. . . He advised two kinds: the pin oak and a very new kind of locust
called a moraine.” This new thornless variety of locust was so new “he thought
we would have trouble finding any big enough for a street.” After phoning
countless nurseries, a number of them were found.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">However, the issues that
Mr. Cone, “a very respected, liked man in town and at Town Hall,” had with the
prospective trees, continued. There were additional concerns that the tree
roots would make the pavements uneven and that citizens would fall and sue the
town; that the roots would break the water mains; that the trees would disturb
the flow of air to apartments overhead; and “that the use of public moneys in
so dangerous a manner” could not be approved.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Lastly, Howland
lamented, before planting any trees, written permission would need to be
obtained from the owner of each building. “Half the people that owned them (the
businesses) weren’t even living in Greenwich.” To Howland’s surprise and dismay,
she discovered that numerous store renters were opposed to trees because of
their issues with leaves that drop, that become slippery in rain, and that
obscure window displays.</span></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimBqUKZfNq1FRIv1pOmgAJSHtBRjeZrjym1iN9RRIyRe338G9IJgeAcnLA9kD-hW51cLJgNryJxntceQAUgwgGKAGu0SmlnxAIh7gICdW8doPjvXFMmKd5YhTjvBPFPgukmzh8hUnzZi2fQ7Rm6dlzrEZDshvUmIWjwDYUuUCLilJsvW9DYb977a79drSe/s4150/Green%20Fingers%20Garden%20Club-Man%20Plants%20Tree.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3269" data-original-width="4150" height="252" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimBqUKZfNq1FRIv1pOmgAJSHtBRjeZrjym1iN9RRIyRe338G9IJgeAcnLA9kD-hW51cLJgNryJxntceQAUgwgGKAGu0SmlnxAIh7gICdW8doPjvXFMmKd5YhTjvBPFPgukmzh8hUnzZi2fQ7Rm6dlzrEZDshvUmIWjwDYUuUCLilJsvW9DYb977a79drSe/s320/Green%20Fingers%20Garden%20Club-Man%20Plants%20Tree.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Green Fingers Garden Club planting a <br />tree on Greenwich Avenue</i></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Help came in the
visage of Mr. Mayer H. Cohen, who owned several buildings on the Avenue and was
president of the local merchants’ association at the time. “Somebody told us
that he was very influential with the people on the street, and that if we
could get him to let us plant trees in front of his buildings, it would make a
great difference. . . Not only did he permit us to plant trees, he spoke to the
others at some merchants’ meeting and, in no time at all, permissions were
flowing in.”</span></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzhYR6QkHs8UGLS4ZKT9MNzVx-JrNX324hRswf0V76q-P8tGTwGzQU_83RN6rf-xylWslgWPOXERjcDxjWeH3aLeFo7ba7WjpfJcLUdv6335LObIgt6H_WQulhROguuF2t-MXUjYcRUPAelXLgEkHOZTDnEQJqsllod1MdFfAdISl8FzWfn4mIyhycTEoZ/s3600/Gwh%20Garden%20Club-Tree%20planting%20on%20Gr%20Ave.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2861" data-original-width="3600" height="254" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzhYR6QkHs8UGLS4ZKT9MNzVx-JrNX324hRswf0V76q-P8tGTwGzQU_83RN6rf-xylWslgWPOXERjcDxjWeH3aLeFo7ba7WjpfJcLUdv6335LObIgt6H_WQulhROguuF2t-MXUjYcRUPAelXLgEkHOZTDnEQJqsllod1MdFfAdISl8FzWfn4mIyhycTEoZ/s320/Gwh%20Garden%20Club-Tree%20planting%20on%20Gr%20Ave.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Greenwich Garden Club planting a<br />tree on Greenwich Avenue</i></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">According to Mrs.
Howland, this whole process took about eight years. Local garden club
contributions and private donations helped “to keep it going.” Howland
continued, “Well, you see, there were so many obstacles to be overcome, and
each time I thought it was the last hurdle. But, of course, it never was.”</span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Joseph Dietrich, who succeeded
Joseph Cone, was “not only supportive, he was enthusiastic about the idea. And
he agreed that Greenwich Avenue should have trees all up and down.” At the
first official planting of pin oaks, there was a gathering of garden club
members, Mr. Dietrich, and the press to mark the grand occasion.</span></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTWvJ5vBTJmMUfSMLnHJJe6SzmVX7YwAci0KAoJBX4fnSUwnEupzOXiy9C9mb8RTvk-o2YKRK5dRPEbJDu-t1VQeUiyI2cKZVibwG4823ymH-hdnLJozKEirhcaji57qo1IQamtCBjc4XA88-17TDSPYhF6Zk5uFk4A1_zfoQI3JPpQS_craTf1PZpfvOR/s2400/Xmas%20Lights%20on%20Gr%20Ave.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2100" data-original-width="2400" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTWvJ5vBTJmMUfSMLnHJJe6SzmVX7YwAci0KAoJBX4fnSUwnEupzOXiy9C9mb8RTvk-o2YKRK5dRPEbJDu-t1VQeUiyI2cKZVibwG4823ymH-hdnLJozKEirhcaji57qo1IQamtCBjc4XA88-17TDSPYhF6Zk5uFk4A1_zfoQI3JPpQS_craTf1PZpfvOR/s320/Xmas%20Lights%20on%20Gr%20Ave.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Christmas lights on Greenwich Avenue in the 1950s</i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Mrs. Howland
concluded, “Well, it’s been satisfying. I really get a tremendous kick at
Christmastime seeing those trees all covered with Christmas lights. I’m really
very happy to see it.”</span><div><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><br /></span></span><p></p><p><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">The interview
entitled “</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">Missions Accomplished<i>”
may be read in its entirety at Greenwich Library and is available for purchase
at the Oral History Project office. The OHP is sponsored by the Friends of Greenwich Library. Visit the project's website at glohistory.org. Our narrator’s
recollections are personal and have not been subject to factual scrutiny.</i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;"><i style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Mary Jacobson, OHP Blog Editor</span></i></span></p></div>oral history adminhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00231094595333269577noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2436776000619507499.post-13836977516607570972022-08-15T16:47:00.002-04:002023-08-12T17:20:18.573-04:00<h2 style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: arial;">The Hurricane of 1938</span></h2><p></p><p style="margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><b>The unnamed hurricane of 1938
is purported to be the first major hurricane to strike New England since 1869. It was one of the most powerful and destructive hurricanes of the
twentieth century.</b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Moving at 47 miles-per-hour, its center made landfall at the
time of an astronomical high tide and fueled storm tides of fourteen to
eighteen feet across the Connecticut coast. In addition, in 1938 there were no
advanced meteorological technologies such as radar, radio buoys, or satellite imaging
to warn residents of an oncoming hurricane.<o:p></o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: left;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7gw_iHArBQ-g3zmZ2n7ADgQEaqHk-KzE1jaokNMCE7AG15wSqDf-sj_3w9AwqbEL6wV4eJdyVbeeHLj2WzN64vd_AyBLF0Emj0h4_QhzPOWknTFGr8qDNW57-VpDtxLIjlpitnSZgtDDWXkd3cFM6Bf3umlECQ1eGf5ClRcBVQuFfQNWMWMVMKSB9IQ/s595/Paul%20Palmer%20in%201942-B2cropped.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="595" data-original-width="445" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7gw_iHArBQ-g3zmZ2n7ADgQEaqHk-KzE1jaokNMCE7AG15wSqDf-sj_3w9AwqbEL6wV4eJdyVbeeHLj2WzN64vd_AyBLF0Emj0h4_QhzPOWknTFGr8qDNW57-VpDtxLIjlpitnSZgtDDWXkd3cFM6Bf3umlECQ1eGf5ClRcBVQuFfQNWMWMVMKSB9IQ/s320/Paul%20Palmer%20in%201942-B2cropped.jpg" width="239" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">Paul Palmer after he joined the <br />U.S. Navy in 1942. Photo lent by <br />the Palmer family to the Oral <br />History Project.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;">Paul Palmer, aged fourteen and
living on Willowmere Avenue at the time, experienced this storm first-hand. His
vivid recollections were recounted to Barbara Ornstein of the Oral History
Project in 1975.</span></div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">On September 21, 1938, Paul and
his classmates were dismissed from school at noon as heavy rain had been continuously
falling for several days. “I remember coming home and how hard that wind was blowing.
I can see the trees going over, you know, but there was no mention of a
hurricane.” Once home, Paul and his friend, John [Buster] Clarke, helped Paul’s
dad pump out the flooded cellar. Paul recounted, “Then I remember it started
raining again that afternoon. The tide was due to come in at night. It was an
afternoon tide. I’d say around five o’clock…That wind was blowing; man alive,
that wind was blowing. And then, all of a sudden, the rain had let up. I guess
the eye had come through, you see, and we thought everything was all over…And that’s
when we all took off.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Paul and Buster heard police and
fire engine sirens coming down the street; they ran out to follow them and saw
a boat aground on Great Island. “And so, Buster and I said, ‘Well, gee, we can
get closer than this. Let’s walk the wall around’… and we crossed over to
Quigley’s Island [then part of the Martin J. Quigley property]. We went out on
the end out there, and we were watching them try to get the boat off and get
the people off the boat.” By this time, the rain and howling wind resumed as
the back end of the hurricane was coming around. The boys decided they had
better return home.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">They crossed back over the bridge
connecting the Quigley property to the mainland and realized the water was to
the top of the wall. One of their neighbors, Mr. Pitcher, called to them
saying, “Boys, you better come in here for a minute. This tide is coming in
awful fast.” Paul agreed to go into the house, but Buster decided to run home. “He
ran around the corner of the house, and the water came up over the wall, and I
heard him holler and his feet went out from underneath him, and he went down
the wall with the wave… He went down alongside the house, and he grabbed ahold
of that telephone pole stay out there when he went by it, on the side of the
driveway.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifM_q1DW1Ft1-QRtpOKtxOffihj7K5w45R_W5MQtgZ95lxXXd_mnoDIx24JA_KyCNPEI4bGOt_WgDRx0WuXdWBYc49P_xPHJ156jO4wWylH58hSoq5ePk6Nrwcv3cWAryudq1RKgq3hhxfb4nY0x-FUxRlAJ-_brTahQmPThq4YzjIgZEieDfFkVskFw/s2466/1938%20Hurricane%20Arch%20St%20Flood-BW-3crpd.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1453" data-original-width="2466" height="118" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifM_q1DW1Ft1-QRtpOKtxOffihj7K5w45R_W5MQtgZ95lxXXd_mnoDIx24JA_KyCNPEI4bGOt_WgDRx0WuXdWBYc49P_xPHJ156jO4wWylH58hSoq5ePk6Nrwcv3cWAryudq1RKgq3hhxfb4nY0x-FUxRlAJ-_brTahQmPThq4YzjIgZEieDfFkVskFw/w200-h118/1938%20Hurricane%20Arch%20St%20Flood-BW-3crpd.jpg" width="200" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">Flood waters on Arch Street during the <br />September 1938 hurricane. Courtesy of the <br />Greenwich Library Local History Collection.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Paul’s training as a Boy Scout helped
prepare him for this emergency situation as he waded into the garage. “I found
a barrel and some line. So, I tied the line to the barrel. And I went over to the
side of the house, and I threw it out in the current, and let it float down to
the telephone pole. Buster grabbed a hold of it, and I said, ‘All right now,
I’ll tie it to the car, and you pull yourself in the lee of the house.’”
Unfortunately, at that point, the car started to float out of the garage.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;"></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSW9OJIsMZX8h6_bnL4CbZcVbPTj1Yls-pxhMvYLsK2auNyyhW7rWGS0ofWQUlZ7Hmml14vIMfSd1Fd_0G9pEMc6uLZpM_PsOsqvz78ZiVoJtb1TmcnCVuqUlyry3W0OHQ0tesDrGjAVAppc8V_nX2iqbZW-gasnGlkkzmkVMU8sWr_8LF-OQbZT3hsA/s1447/Photo%20No%206-Edit-3-Size-crpd.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="923" data-original-width="1447" height="159" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSW9OJIsMZX8h6_bnL4CbZcVbPTj1Yls-pxhMvYLsK2auNyyhW7rWGS0ofWQUlZ7Hmml14vIMfSd1Fd_0G9pEMc6uLZpM_PsOsqvz78ZiVoJtb1TmcnCVuqUlyry3W0OHQ0tesDrGjAVAppc8V_nX2iqbZW-gasnGlkkzmkVMU8sWr_8LF-OQbZT3hsA/w249-h159/Photo%20No%206-Edit-3-Size-crpd.jpg" width="249" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">Destruction caused by the hurricane in the <br />Island Beach area. Courtesy of the<br />Greenwich Historical Society.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;">With help from other adults in
the house, Buster was pulled into the relative safety of the Pitcher home in
which the water was waist high. “I remember the [dining] table was floating around.
The candles were lit on the table and the table was floating around with all
the candles lit on it.” A neighbor, Doc Roper’s son Edward, came over in a
rowboat and “we all got out of the kitchen window into the rowboat… We were
scared to death to go home. We said, ‘Oh, boy, are we gonna get it.’”<o:p></o:p></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Like any parent, Mrs. Palmer was
beside herself with worry. “…and man alive, did we get it! My mother was having
a fit. She didn’t know where we were, where we had gone.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The hurricane of 1938 and Mr.
Pitcher’s 1921 Sears and Roebuck house on Willowmere Circle in Riverside played
a significant role in Paul Palmer’s life. Paul had always admired the home, and
after Paul returned from naval service in World War II, Mr. Pitcher “put in his
will that if he died before he could sell me the house, that I would get it
through his estate at the assessed valuation. It was to be sold to me. I pretty
near flipped.”<br /><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal">
</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Eventually, Paul purchased the
home and proudly described the many improvements he had made to it, most
notably, putting the furnace and the washer and dryer on the second floor. In addition,
“I rewired everything overhead. You see where the base plugs are? [waist-high]
Well, I know how deep it can get!”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">The book “The 1938 Hurricane in Willowmere” may be read at
Greenwich Library and is available for purchase at the Oral History Project
office. The OHP is sponsored by the Friends of the Greenwich Library. Visit the
website at glohistory.org. Mary A. Jacobson, OHP blog editor.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;">
</p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-size: medium;">By Mary Jacobson, OHP Blog Editor</span><o:p></o:p></i></p><p></p>oral history adminhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00231094595333269577noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2436776000619507499.post-20104422094584386112021-11-23T12:16:00.002-05:002021-11-23T12:18:22.727-05:00Tod's Point and WW II Veterans<h3 style="text-align: left;">A mansion at Tod’s Point served as a residence for Greenwich
WW II veterans and their families from 1946 to 1961</h3><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;">Thousands of people enjoy the beauty and sanctuary of Tod’s Point, yet few are aware of its connection to the veterans of WW II. From 1946 to 1961, the former mansion of Mr. and Mrs. J. Kennedy Tod, the original owners of Tod’s Point (known now as Greenwich Point), served as a residence for WW II veterans and their families. The home was demolished in 1961.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpFyXkU3NLqBrKNFg3ZEGSya8Et6n2d-HRYoGneb8-75GCNtwQC8MTAv3irMLnIk36-TlieCi2KtWX7m-O96_b_8oJVFHFzgVohgOdnRC9m_yEwz4f3AR-08yLYJphKPVd0tZCznIarq72/s1715/xp57eastSideofMansion.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1059" data-original-width="1715" height="198" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpFyXkU3NLqBrKNFg3ZEGSya8Et6n2d-HRYoGneb8-75GCNtwQC8MTAv3irMLnIk36-TlieCi2KtWX7m-O96_b_8oJVFHFzgVohgOdnRC9m_yEwz4f3AR-08yLYJphKPVd0tZCznIarq72/s320/xp57eastSideofMansion.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">East side of mansion</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;">In 1981, the Oral History Project published Tod’s Point: An Oral History, a complete history of Tod’s Point from its earliest times populated by Indians. Sixty-seven narrators were interviewed for this extensive project and it is from this rich trove that the stories of the WWII veterans are excerpted.</span><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;">In 1945 the Town of Greenwich purchased the 148-acre property of Tod’s Point from Columbia-Presbyterian Hospital, to whom it had been bequeathed upon Tod’s death, for the sum of $550,000. The mansion on the property had not been used as a residence since Mrs. Tod died in 1939. Concurrently, with the end of WW II, veterans were returning home to a severe housing shortage. Approval was given by the Town of Greenwich to lease the mansion to thirteen veteran families for one dollar a year. </span></p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><blockquote><span style="font-family: trebuchet; font-size: large;"><i>"...we were all young, just out of the army. It was fun."</i></span></blockquote><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy3YfJItJZXI6vZmFBiQG2rIayiWmBdzv7_bhjLQAaMUbdez7XP4EUozkqKF6MzlTRUI1rz-tYr1LVcjJGGDU0gjGCl1xVa8itULLHXdrAq-lBXPC9fcHsDhGltvTZ3VA9kbnFoPuH7XoR/s2048/p60CompletingRenovation.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1771" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy3YfJItJZXI6vZmFBiQG2rIayiWmBdzv7_bhjLQAaMUbdez7XP4EUozkqKF6MzlTRUI1rz-tYr1LVcjJGGDU0gjGCl1xVa8itULLHXdrAq-lBXPC9fcHsDhGltvTZ3VA9kbnFoPuH7XoR/w277-h320/p60CompletingRenovation.jpg" title="Completing renovation" width="277" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Completing renovation</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;">The thirteen families planned to move into the mansion in 1946. First, however, its thirty-nine rooms had to be converted into thirteen apartments. They formed an independent nonprofit corporation called Vetaptco (Veterans’ Apartment Corporation). Each family floated a $1,000 loan from a local bank (The Greenwich Trust Company). According to resident Nicholas Thiel Ficker, “We paid (monthly) rent to our own corporation. I think forty dollars was the cheapest and seventy dollars was the most expensive. Of that, twenty-nine dollars went to the bank. The balance went into our Vetaptco account, and from that we paid for our oil, our heat, our electric, and so forth.”</span><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;">To ready the apartments, according to Ficker, “This contractor (Peter Danziger) did the basic work and we did all the finishing work. We did all the painting, and some of the plastering, and a lot of the carpentry.” Ficker continued, “To get thirteen young families living down there, it took some courage. . . . It’s cut off from the public, you know, during the dark and winter months. . . . For that particular time, we were all young, just out of the army. It was fun.”</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span style="font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpz93-Qc7-7tQ9YHHVjoh0eMZFbxEIapb_CxeVm4m1QKwKxS3vzAfoLiMIo9a4AshzlICRctE6I0ZKerJ-qaPGI6qJY8wJTLHLIl2C8NfZVcjaL39CofT9dyHV8uZb08EqyNQpVUpRy1sE/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1164" data-original-width="1718" height="217" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpz93-Qc7-7tQ9YHHVjoh0eMZFbxEIapb_CxeVm4m1QKwKxS3vzAfoLiMIo9a4AshzlICRctE6I0ZKerJ-qaPGI6qJY8wJTLHLIl2C8NfZVcjaL39CofT9dyHV8uZb08EqyNQpVUpRy1sE/" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mansion after snowstorm</td></tr></tbody></table>Living at Tod’s Point had its challenges. The Town plowed the snow only to the entrance to Tod’s Point. During a blizzard at Christmastime in 1947 Ficker recalled, “Well, we didn’t have any snow shovels . . . so we took these sheets of aluminum and cut them up and made long wooden handles, and nailed these rectangular pieces of aluminum to the wooden handles and made about thirteen shovels. . . . We shoveled all day long, and at six o’clock at night, we finally broke through to Shore Road where they had plowed it.”</span><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;">Another emergency, that required a communal response, was the inadequate septic system. As Ficker described, “The septic system filled up. . . . There was an old, poor old septic tank, and it just couldn’t take it any longer. On Thanksgiving Day of 1946, we dug a whole dry field. Thirteen men got out there with shovels, picks, and we dug trenches through that. We honeycombed that whole field, laid tiles, filled in gravel, and connected it in with the septic tank which was across the road. . . . We worked up an appetite for turkey.”</span></p><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;">Resident Martha Hankins credits her childhood years living at “the Point” with her lifelong appreciation of the environment. “Just the experience of everything and being able to just have so much around you, so much nature, and nature still really affects me. . . . <br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span style="font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZzRVqQM8GHvSyOOZA961TkvgNG_cC5Ig0e0IOwnkbsEkiIRwqXqzGK5Erb7i8gcL_N_PF998qHSVjwESZMCM1MJwH3k_b2msz0YfUcuy5SJI5NvvylY31rf6i5KiTlXULfNQV_PZKV9qm/s1840/Village+Gazette+aerial+photo+-+scanned+-+BW.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1840" data-original-width="1659" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZzRVqQM8GHvSyOOZA961TkvgNG_cC5Ig0e0IOwnkbsEkiIRwqXqzGK5Erb7i8gcL_N_PF998qHSVjwESZMCM1MJwH3k_b2msz0YfUcuy5SJI5NvvylY31rf6i5KiTlXULfNQV_PZKV9qm/s320/Village+Gazette+aerial+photo+-+scanned+-+BW.jpg" width="289" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aerial photo of Tod's Point</td></tr></tbody></table><br />And the bird sanctuary, around Thanksgiving time all the ducks would flock into the lake. There’d be thousands of ducks in the lake.” Ficker reminisces, “. . . we’d go down to the pond. We had a big net on the end of a long pole, and we’d catch blue crabs. Oh boy! Blue crabs were all over the place.”</span><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;">By 1961, the last family moved out. According to Ficker,” I think it ended simply because time had run out on it. . . . The Town had said they wouldn’t renew the lease, and there was good reason. . . . It was really starting to get run down. It would have taken a tremendous amount of money to put it into any shape at all. . . . And then there was the decision to demolish the house. Of course, we were all sad to see it go.” Unfortunately, before it was torn down, the building was vandalized. “It was a mess.”</span></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCM5KHV_9k7mxqtW5XhOzOQSIUr8UGfg9sj96Xgc0bojB-xmPO0taj0xVLO1kcXfvPx9b8yUjy4Xaeu6682eOS3Eq2rIQnXcxAtyBZNQSJUpPHfvZzz_gkaGUhaz-31zwrxhbq6DVoTyEF/s1715/xp79Demolition.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1391" data-original-width="1715" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCM5KHV_9k7mxqtW5XhOzOQSIUr8UGfg9sj96Xgc0bojB-xmPO0taj0xVLO1kcXfvPx9b8yUjy4Xaeu6682eOS3Eq2rIQnXcxAtyBZNQSJUpPHfvZzz_gkaGUhaz-31zwrxhbq6DVoTyEF/w320-h261/xp79Demolition.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Demolition of the mansion</td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;">Martha Hankins returned to her apartment shortly before the demolishment. “The piano we had was pushed down the stairs. . . . I couldn’t come back to see it torn down. It was just too much for me, because we had good memories there.” Resident Joseph Callachan agreed, “It was just a simply marvelous experience, and one that we’re awfully glad we have in our background.”</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;">The book, “Tod’s Point, An Oral History,” may be read in its entirety at Greenwich Library and is available for purchase at the Oral History Project office. The OHP is sponsored by Friends of Greenwich Library. Visit the website at glohistory.org.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><i style="font-family: trebuchet; font-size: large;">Mary A. Jacobson, OHP blog editor</i></p>oral history adminhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00231094595333269577noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2436776000619507499.post-41251380287959353292021-05-08T11:58:00.000-04:002021-05-08T11:58:53.069-04:00<h2 style="text-align: left;"> <span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; text-indent: 0.5in;">Village
Life in Old Greenwich</span></h2><p><i><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The roots of Old Greenwich run deep from a tiny and close community
at the turn of the twentieth century to the vibrant town center that exists
today. In 1989, OHP volunteer Marian Phillips interviewed Daniel Catanzaro, a longtime
resident of Old Greenwich who currently resides in Riverside. Our thanks to
Elizaveta McCauley, a sophomore at Greenwich High School, for her contributions
to this blog.</span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Daniel Catanzaro was born on October 8, 1926, in Old
Greenwich. His parents were Mary Catanzaro, a nurse, and Nicholas Catanzaro,
Old Greenwich’s shoemaker and a central figure in the community. Daniel’s
recollections take us back to earlier days.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“My family settled here around 1910. But Dad was commuting
here, walking from Stamford to Old Greenwich. At that time the trolley ride was
five cents, and it was too expensive. That was a luxury. So, we go back to
right around the 1900s, when Old Greenwich was really a great town to live in.
Old Greenwich was a crowded little town from, say, June 1 to September 1. Then
on September 1 all the summer people moved out.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Life in Old Greenwich was nothing short of carefree and
merry. The close, friendly bond between neighbors and families was perfect for
young Catanzaro, who enjoyed being able to go out and about with his friends at
just about any time. “I remember playing basketball any hour of the night down
at the Old Greenwich School and then walking home ten, eleven o’clock at night.
You’d never meet a soul, and you never had a fear of anyone doing anything to
you, because you’d just run into somebody’s house and they’d walk you home. Old
Greenwich was the safest place I could ever think of for a youngster to grow up
in.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Taking care of Binney Park, Catanzaro notes, was a great
part of his summer. “That’s where we all got our spending money. We’d go down
there and pull weeds out, and that’s why Binney Park always looked so beautiful
. . . Ed Sullivan used to ride by when he was a columnist with the </span><i style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">New York
Daily News</i><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">, and he’d always write about the beauty of Binney Park.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">As an older child, Catanzaro picked up and delivered shoes
to and from his father. “The Shorehame Club had a lot of prominent people
there, show people…I was one of the few that would actually go down there; I
used to deliver repaired shoes or pick them up and bring them to my dad. I
couldn’t remember many other people going down there. There were a few homes,
but not many.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Daniel Catanzaro also delivered some items other than shoes.
“One of the bad things that happened was during World War II. Lake’s Drug Store
handled all the Western Union. Anyone that was killed in the service, the
telegram would come into Lake’s and we would have to deliver them. If no one
was home, the majority of times we’d bring them back and try and find someone
who was associated with the family.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Catanzaro shared his memories of certain other deliveries
from Lake’s Drug Store after Prohibition ended in 1933. “We had liquor down in
the cellar. Sunday was our big day. In those days you packed ice cream in a
quart container. Everybody used to fight to work for Lake’s on Sunday because
you went to deliver a quart of liquor in a quart ice cream container. Whose ever
house you delivered it to, you were always good for a nickel or dime tip, so
there was always a waiting line to work in Lake’s on Sunday. You were not
allowed, like you’re not now allowed, to sell liquor on Sundays. But our
commuters would forget on Saturday. They’d call on Sunday, and we’d deliver it
in a quart ice cream container.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">The closeness of the Old Greenwich community extended to the
canine portion of the neighborhood—that is, Sound Beach Fire Department’s beloved
firehouse dog, Spot. A proud, dignified-looking Dalmatian, he was a common
sight to see around the firehouse. Spot accompanied his fellow firefighters as
they responded to fires and he would wear his collar—decorated with the emblem
of the Fire Department. Unfortunately, Spot passed away in 1949.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“When that dog died, it was like the most important person
in Old Greenwich passed away.</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">He was
buried in a casket and a full funeral ceremony, right in front of the Old
Greenwich firehouse. That’s where Spot was buried. I’ve never forgotten that.
There was an awful lot of broken hearts when Spot finally left us. They had a
formal funeral for him, and everyone in Old Greenwich had tears coming down
their eyes.”</span></p>
<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span><i><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The Oral History Project interview of Daniel Catanzaro, and
the book by the same name, </span></i><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Village Life in Old Greenwich, <i>are
available for purchase through the OHP office at the Greenwich Library. The OHP
is sponsored by the Friends of the Greenwich Library. Visit the OHP website at
glohistory.org. Mary A. Jacobson serves as the OHP blog editor.</i></span></div>oral history adminhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00231094595333269577noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2436776000619507499.post-25765926536297413682021-03-01T19:24:00.000-05:002021-03-01T19:24:39.955-05:00<p><i>As we know, the Olympic Games Tokoyo 2020 were postponed for the first time in history, for a reason other than war, due to the COVID-19 outbreak. The Opening Ceremony of Tokoyo 2020 is scheduled for July 23, 2021.</i></p><div class="MsoNormal"><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="color: #1a1a1a; mso-bidi-font-family: Georgia;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Greenwich
laid claim to its own Olympian, Helen Meany Gravis, who gold-medaled in diving
almost a century ago, at the Olympic Games Amsterdam 1928. Over the course of
two Oral History Project interviews by Esther H. Smith in 1982 and 1983, the
journey of Helen Meany Gravis was revealed.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="color: #1a1a1a; mso-bidi-font-family: Georgia;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><br /></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="color: #1a1a1a; mso-bidi-font-family: Georgia;"><p class="MsoNormal"></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCYhpgS_HMLcbAJAg5kLeN6X6QBosyxAMVn3QDXbh6q8o1GuepZBWVqOk37eyCK_HvvWoh1W0X_tcfl1AMWvqwhwXhk21DHePcET48COyBm-GcKZfGjZIz7vhpU1mA_L4BPO1OUCeyCjxF/s1600/Josephine+Sullivan+Meany+with+daughter+Helen.TIF" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCYhpgS_HMLcbAJAg5kLeN6X6QBosyxAMVn3QDXbh6q8o1GuepZBWVqOk37eyCK_HvvWoh1W0X_tcfl1AMWvqwhwXhk21DHePcET48COyBm-GcKZfGjZIz7vhpU1mA_L4BPO1OUCeyCjxF/s1600/Josephine+Sullivan+Meany+with+daughter+Helen.TIF" width="172" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Josephine Meany with Helen</i></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">The Meanys
lived in a house on Steamboat Road, with its own little beach. Helen’s
recollections of Greenwich are more of water than of land. “I learned to swim
before I could walk,” she recalls. Across the road was the Indian Harbor Yacht
Club, where young Helen also swam. Neither of these provided a true learning
environment for the future Olympian, but they would suffice. She remembers
winning her first meet when she was thirteen. By then, her father, recognizing
her potential, had begun taking her to A.A.U. (Amateur Athletic Union) meets.<o:p></o:p></span><p></p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgURhkVeuz4O5YEYDaZArJl7j_H8_f2CZzRi8sWClli006ki60Mai1cG8yq5Y0aH5V_2AgpKWI_TyrZMtPyI9qQDwCR5H6hlbG2aoBu3ELwCQt_KI6mYlueFoDts8Msm8odxx9SuOTllZRN/s1600/William+S.+Meany,+Sr.TIF" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgURhkVeuz4O5YEYDaZArJl7j_H8_f2CZzRi8sWClli006ki60Mai1cG8yq5Y0aH5V_2AgpKWI_TyrZMtPyI9qQDwCR5H6hlbG2aoBu3ELwCQt_KI6mYlueFoDts8Msm8odxx9SuOTllZRN/s1600/William+S.+Meany,+Sr.TIF" width="136" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>William Meany, Helen's father</i></td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Helen
competed in swimming because she had no place to develop technique in diving,
her true interest. She learned, however, by practicing off the dock, on top of
a coalhouse, at Commodore Benedict’s home, across the inlet from their beach.
Her father, more coaxing than coaching, would encourage her to take the plunge
from his place in the waters below. She apparently would dive from anything he
could find, high diving platforms being in short supply in the area.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Eventually,
her father rigged a platform for her on the side of the yacht club. It was a
makeshift float with a ten-foot board from which she could dive. Swimming in
those waters was later stopped, being deemed too dangerous. Her practice
sessions, as she describes them, were nothing short of perilous, with her
climbing up to the board at the top, while below the float wobbled
unpredictably as boats passed, coming and going out of the harbor, very near
her landing mark.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">“I guess
if he told me to jump off the Brooklyn Bridge,” she says of her father, “I
would have done it.” This is how this future Olympic gold medalist in the
women’s three-meter springboard diving competition got her start.<o:p></o:p></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgScok2XhtTxmcTNaiuK_QY9288as1NC8HNi9bwVnmEwblN8eZJl61qTj0oVpV6F6SPKxCDNWF1lIPfp8q-kUsUqwXNJD85KuC8O6xWaQl5IVH3Nohp9eLu4qnxcD7wfvuv9yorDpf9IYwr/s1600/The+Meany+Children+-+Bob,+Jack,+Louise,+Alice,+Frances,+Helen,+Richard,+Ruth,+George,+and+William+(Josephine+was+absent).TIF" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="293" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgScok2XhtTxmcTNaiuK_QY9288as1NC8HNi9bwVnmEwblN8eZJl61qTj0oVpV6F6SPKxCDNWF1lIPfp8q-kUsUqwXNJD85KuC8O6xWaQl5IVH3Nohp9eLu4qnxcD7wfvuv9yorDpf9IYwr/w320-h293/The+Meany+Children+-+Bob,+Jack,+Louise,+Alice,+Frances,+Helen,+Richard,+Ruth,+George,+and+William+(Josephine+was+absent).TIF" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption"><i>Brothers and Sisters (minus one sister). Helen <br />is sixth from left.</i></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">All the
Meany children were swimmers. And there were a lot of them, eleven to be exact,
counting Helen, the eldest. Ms. Gravis explains that because her father liked
to swim so much, it was natural for the children to become swimmers, too. She
remembers “having to pick up the little ones as soon as they could walk or they’d
just run right to the water and right up to practically over their heads.” She
also remembers that if, in the summer, her siblings missed the boat to Island
Beach, they would simply dive off the dock at Indian Harbor and swim to the
island.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">It was all
just fun and games until, at a meet in Rye, New York, Helen Meany saw Alice
Lord Landon (who later became an Olympic diver) dive from the ten-meter
platform. That is when young Helen knew she wanted to be a platform diver. But
the path from her childhood water exploits in Greenwich to the Olympics was not
an easy one, since there were few or no diving facilities nearby. She remembers
commuting from Greenwich to Manhattan Beach, on the far end of Brooklyn, to
practice.</span></p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFKH751WZCxLnfUiwLz0Suk4QGcfFFIwYHsQL5MjuEMQoIwIU5CYImdy2XWFsF9RLklFEMUvndL9VDPZZ1lwLbjjFro0NnBPY3cjqQgt52fg_tWQm7jTtC-FsGDx19oYjI5z9FU6-dP8YN/s1600/Helen+Meany+and+Martha+Norelius+-+at+the+Olympics+in+Amsterdam.TIF" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFKH751WZCxLnfUiwLz0Suk4QGcfFFIwYHsQL5MjuEMQoIwIU5CYImdy2XWFsF9RLklFEMUvndL9VDPZZ1lwLbjjFro0NnBPY3cjqQgt52fg_tWQm7jTtC-FsGDx19oYjI5z9FU6-dP8YN/w154-h200/Helen+Meany+and+Martha+Norelius+-+at+the+Olympics+in+Amsterdam.TIF" width="154" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Helen Meany with Martha Norelius, <br />Amsterdam, 1928</i></td></tr></tbody></table><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLntzqfOYP59Aoc_ezIWG8d44DNwycrQ-uZrmRYzWds3JY8xZmAJfPSl5kLzcvs1HyNq_HIFnNiXUu4vZO-jpW3nL2_9N5hdUh6TvggLM0IBrAjs7QmFP6mUplb3sqQask_QlBvmDRz8Vh/s1600/Helen+Practicing+at+Manhattan+Beach.TIF" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLntzqfOYP59Aoc_ezIWG8d44DNwycrQ-uZrmRYzWds3JY8xZmAJfPSl5kLzcvs1HyNq_HIFnNiXUu4vZO-jpW3nL2_9N5hdUh6TvggLM0IBrAjs7QmFP6mUplb3sqQask_QlBvmDRz8Vh/s1600/Helen+Practicing+at+Manhattan+Beach.TIF" width="161" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Helen Meany <br />at Manhattan Beach</i></td></tr></tbody></table><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif"><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Later, as
a college student at Wellesley, where there was no swimming pool, she had to
decide whether to continue her studies or to make the 1924 Olympic team. After
having been eliminated in the 1920 games in the first round, Helen chose to try
again and left college before graduating. She placed fifth in the ten-meter
platform competition in Paris, 1924, and went on to win the gold in Amsterdam
in the three-meter event in 1928.</span></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">One
wonders how she did it, given the amount of training and coaching that goes
into competing in today’s games. “I learned most of my dives from a thirty-four-foot
platform, and if you don’t hit the water just right, you can get hurt. . . . So,
you just have to try it and try to correct it yourself,” she explains. And
here’s the amazing thing: “I didn’t have a diving coach,” she adds.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #1a1a1a;">Now there’s a champion for the record books.</span></p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #1a1a1a;">Helen Meany Gravis died at her home in Old Greenwich, Connecticut, July 21, 1991, at the age of eighty-six.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #1a1a1a;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="color: #1a1a1a; mso-bidi-font-family: Georgia;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHmggdMeC9beS8Ir89JRbTW8m-vQGScujPgrxy4CgYyxmpdQW6c4J9wtoaWFUZkgNdEae7q5RPt2-zmouawQ8Nm4iEHlZuDPbQlDb4lFiV9ApY_Ixxmm_V6kA0Y3qe_tXrXlVwDAAcJgOC/s1600/Helen+Meany+Gravis+-+Photo+by+K.+Geeson.TIF" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHmggdMeC9beS8Ir89JRbTW8m-vQGScujPgrxy4CgYyxmpdQW6c4J9wtoaWFUZkgNdEae7q5RPt2-zmouawQ8Nm4iEHlZuDPbQlDb4lFiV9ApY_Ixxmm_V6kA0Y3qe_tXrXlVwDAAcJgOC/s1600/Helen+Meany+Gravis+-+Photo+by+K.+Geeson.TIF" width="250" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption"><i>Helen Meany Gravis in front of the <br />former Meany home on Old Church Road, <br />photographed by Karl Gleeson for the <br />1982–1983 Oral History Project interview </i></td></tr></tbody></table></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">This blog, written by OHP volunteer Jean Moore, was derived from the Oral History Project book, </i>“From Greenwich to the Olympics: Helen Meany Gravis.”<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> It is available for purchase at the Greenwich Library Oral History Project office. Visit the OHP web site at glohistory.org.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif"><br /></span></div><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
<o:AllowPNG/>
</o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:WordDocument>
<w:View>Normal</w:View>
<w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom>
<w:TrackMoves/>
<w:TrackFormatting/>
<w:PunctuationKerning/>
<w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/>
<w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>
<w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent>
<w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>
<w:DoNotPromoteQF/>
<w:LidThemeOther>EN-US</w:LidThemeOther>
<w:LidThemeAsian>JA</w:LidThemeAsian>
<w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript>
<w:Compatibility>
<w:BreakWrappedTables/>
<w:SnapToGridInCell/>
<w:WrapTextWithPunct/>
<w:UseAsianBreakRules/>
<w:DontGrowAutofit/>
<w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/>
<w:EnableOpenTypeKerning/>
<w:DontFlipMirrorIndents/>
<w:OverrideTableStyleHps/>
<w:UseFELayout/>
</w:Compatibility>
<m:mathPr>
<m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/>
<m:brkBin m:val="before"/>
<m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/>
<m:smallFrac m:val="off"/>
<m:dispDef/>
<m:lMargin m:val="0"/>
<m:rMargin m:val="0"/>
<m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/>
<m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/>
<m:intLim m:val="subSup"/>
<m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/>
</m:mathPr></w:WordDocument>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
DefSemiHidden="true" DefQFormat="false" DefPriority="99"
LatentStyleCount="276">
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="0" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Normal"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="heading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="35" QFormat="true" Name="caption"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="10" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" Name="Default Paragraph Font"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="11" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtitle"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="22" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Strong"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="20" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="59" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Table Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Placeholder Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="No Spacing"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Revision"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="34" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="List Paragraph"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="29" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="30" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="19" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="21" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="31" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="32" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="33" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Book Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="37" Name="Bibliography"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" QFormat="true" Name="TOC Heading"/>
</w:LatentStyles>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]>
<style>
/* Style Definitions */
table.MsoNormalTable
{mso-style-name:"Table Normal";
mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;
mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;
mso-style-noshow:yes;
mso-style-priority:99;
mso-style-parent:"";
mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt;
mso-para-margin:0in;
mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:Cambria;
mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;}
</style>
<![endif]--><!--StartFragment--><!--EndFragment--><br />oral history adminhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00231094595333269577noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2436776000619507499.post-40645501803869923572020-09-08T00:49:00.001-04:002020-09-08T00:49:36.387-04:00<p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">To mark the 100<sup>th</sup>
anniversary of the passage of the Nineteenth Amendment, August 18, 2020, giving
women the right to vote, student writer for the Greenwich Library Oral History
Project, <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Noor Rekhi</b>, a senior at
Greenwich Academy, draws from four interviews with Greenwich descendants of
suffragist <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Elizabeth Cady Stanton</b>. <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">John Barney</b> and his sister, <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Rhoda Barney-Jenkins</b>, were interviewed
by volunteer <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Penny Bott Haughwout</b> in
1974<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">. Catherine Stanton</b> was
interviewed by volunteer <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Donna H.Kavee</b>
in 1982, and <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Coline Jenkins</b> was
interviewed by volunteer <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Patricia Holch</b>
in 1997.<o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">This month, the Oral History Project dedicates its blog to
Elizabeth Cady Stanton and her descendants.
While Stanton lived in New York State, many of her descendants lived or
currently live in Greenwich. Through interviews conducted with John Barney,
Rhoda Barney Jenkins, Catherine Stanton, and Coline Jenkins, the Oral History
Project has learned more about the Stanton family and their strong ties to the
advocacy of feminism.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>Although Elizabeth Cady Stanton, born in 1815, did not live
to see the passage of the 19<sup>th</sup> Amendment in 1920, she was arguably
one of the most famous suffragists in American history. Coline Jenkins recounted her great-great
grandmother’s legacy saying, “She and other women rewrote the <i>Declaration of Independence. </i>Their
document was named the <i>Declaration of
Sentiments</i> and was a list of grievances against the male-dominated society.
There was a radical part of her document. The radical part was that women
should vote; and she belie</span><span>ved that, through the vote, women could gain other
rights. She felt these rights were inherent to being a citizen of America,
despite the gender of the citizen. She’s a central character in our family.”</span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="929" data-original-width="1080" height="275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaUGa5VYANFqHs-vrCXYlux8-oVVmJFc6mOKUA_4qOdcmUa5_V1_msTX2shZf8KBR3VM79kiCrSU3bsF2B_9auez_aDzjzrvKFvA6gwbYTcnyi1xCIlyvPv7Ha5yDDVUj6v2-OWHltroQU/w320-h275/Elizabeth+Cady+Stanton+w+son+Henry+Brewser+Stanton+Jr.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span><span><span style="font-family: verdana;">Elizabeth Cady Stanton with her son <br />Henry Brewster Stanton Jr., circa 1855.<br /> Photo courtesy: Coline Jenkins</span><br /><br /></span></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Central character she was. Her descendants have made efforts
to preserve her history and carry on her efforts. Rhoda Barney Jenkins, great granddaughter of
Stanton, was herself an advocate for the Equal Rights Amendment and a member of
the National Organization for Women. A resident of Greenwich when interviewed
in 1974, she shed light on the background of the family going back to Margaret
Livingston Cady, Elizabeth Cady Stanton’s mother. The daughter of a
Revolutionary War colonel, Margaret was born with a fervor to stand up for what
was right. Jenkins fondly recounted a family story in which Margaret cleverly
managed to ensure that women would have the opportunity to get their votes
counted in the election of their new minister. It is highly plausible to
suggest that Margaret’s spirit may have been passed on to Elizabeth Cady
Stanton, who would in turn inspire other generations of Stanton women.<br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="810" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVPNUCv6c3SNSbeCxY7ajMn4hAdKCqh6n6K4xR5WdWuAtw1G374z7MNWZCQccOFQIeVZGimX_7mtzvpkpavxJqHDlwU5iAr_CgS1FdXdxR6z8bVEXhy0mF483gVX-0loDoRZCU3Gsgo35v/s320/Rhoda+Barney+Jenkins+w+grandson+Eric+Jenkins-Sahlin.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Rhoda Barney Jenkins, accompanied by her grandson, <br />Eric Jenkins-Sahlin, voting at Julian Curtiss School, circa 2000.<br />Photo courtesy: Coline Jenkins<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>Elizabeth Cady Stanton’s daughter Harr</span><span>iet Stanton Blatch
played an active role in the movement her mother ignited. Blatch was a powerful
feminist in her own right and was instrumental in organizing the first suffrage
parade in New York City. Her work helped lead to the passage of the 19</span><sup>th</sup><span>
Amendment. Blatch’s daughter, Greenwich resident Nora Stanton Barney, paved the
way for other women as well. She was one of the first female civil engineers in
America, graduating from Cornell in 1905, despite the lack of acceptance from
her male peers. Even though she was purposely excluded from a class yearbook
photo with her fellow engineer graduates, she received her degree and came in
second in her class. At Cornell, she
founded the University’s suffrage club. Undoubtedly, Nora Stanton Barney was an
impressive figure. She was even invited to the British Parliament’s visitors’
box, although the invitation was retracted when she informed the State
Department of her plan to shout, “Votes for Women!” in solidarity with British
feminists.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Most recently, Coline Jenkins, Greenwich resident and RTM
member, helped preserve Elizabeth Cady Stanton’s legacy and ensure suffragists maintain
their place in history. In 1921, a statue of Elizabeth Cady Stanton, Lucretia
Mott, and Susan B. Anthony was relegated to the crypt beneath the U.S. Capitol Rotunda
in Washington, D.C., days after its dedication. It remained there until the
1990s when<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>a Woman Suffrage Statue
committee was formed to return it to its place in the Rotunda, “the centerpiece
of American democracy,” as described by Jenkins. Jenkins helped create the
documentary <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">An American Revolution: Women
Take Their Place </i>about the moving of the statue. Elizabeth Cady Stanton
helped secure the right of women to vote and Coline Jenkins helped ensure that
her ancestor would still have a voice today.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">As we reflect on the anniversary of the 19<sup>th</sup>
Amendment, it is imperative that we recognize Stanton and the generations of
women after her who campaigned for women’s rights. When you cast your ballot
this November, remember all the people who persevered so that every American
woman could vote. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Reflecting on Stanton’s work, Rhoda Barney Jenkins
remarked,” I really would have liked to have known Elizabeth Cady Stanton. You
know, the more you read of what she’s written, the more you respect how deeply
she thought about things and how elegantly she put it, and this tremendous
amount of work that she did, too. It’s just incredible.” Although Stanton lived
over a century ago, we do get to know her. We know her through the progress she
has made for women in our society and through the oral histories preserved for
generations to come.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The John Barney, Rhoda
Barney-Jenkins, Catherine Stanton, and Coline Jenkins interview </i><i>Transcripts may be
read at Greenwich Library and are available for purchase at the Oral History </i><i>Project office. The
Oral History Project is sponsored by the Friends of the Greenwich Library.
Visit the OHP website at glohistory.org</i>.
Mary Jacobson, OHP blog editor</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p></p>oral history adminhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00231094595333269577noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2436776000619507499.post-71906020964508420752020-06-22T18:42:00.047-04:002020-06-23T12:18:20.813-04:00Chancy D'Elia: Pre-Feminist Entrepreneur<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlZm7BTTNsmTQQqqfaDtPcuQBtQunZo8anb5xirvdwRi58xB_mYBIB1PbN55nQgned68l4lz-WwripyzAOGftzYMKE1z97uhGtdhuIZaSAzuYzj9cIQ2itFsZoRW2B1mjsCpEs1PHMFHcp/s1300/DEliaPortrait-Crop-Blur.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><p class="post-title entry-title" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: black; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0.75em 0px 0px; orphans: 2; position: relative; text-align: left; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="text-align: center;"><font size="2"><font face="helvetica"><i>Olivia Luntz, guest blogger, was a Greenwich High School senior at the time this blog was written in 2017 about Chancy D'Elia. Chancy owned <span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-size: 13.33px; font-variant: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">Chancy D’Elia clothing store at 244 Greenwich Avenue, a true landmark, from 1945 until it closed in 2005. Although she faced numerous obstacles, Chancy persevered and became one of the most successful businesswomen in Greenwich. The original Interview of Chancy was conducted in 1975.</span></i></font></font></span></p><div class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: black; font-family: "arial","tahoma","helvetica","freesans",sans-serif; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><font face="arial"></font><font face="verdana"></font><font face="trebuchet"></font><font face="helvetica"></font><font face="inherit"></font><font face="arial"></font><font face="helvetica"></font><i></i><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlZm7BTTNsmTQQqqfaDtPcuQBtQunZo8anb5xirvdwRi58xB_mYBIB1PbN55nQgned68l4lz-WwripyzAOGftzYMKE1z97uhGtdhuIZaSAzuYzj9cIQ2itFsZoRW2B1mjsCpEs1PHMFHcp/s1300/DEliaPortrait-Crop-Blur.jpg" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; clear: right; color: #0066cc; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-variant: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><i><img border="0" data-original-height="1300" data-original-width="1027" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlZm7BTTNsmTQQqqfaDtPcuQBtQunZo8anb5xirvdwRi58xB_mYBIB1PbN55nQgned68l4lz-WwripyzAOGftzYMKE1z97uhGtdhuIZaSAzuYzj9cIQ2itFsZoRW2B1mjsCpEs1PHMFHcp/w204-h256/DEliaPortrait-Crop-Blur.jpg" width="204" /></i></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div><font face="georgia" size="2"><i>Chancy D'Elia</i></font></div><div><font face="georgia" size="2"><i>Collection of the </i></font></div><div><font face="georgia" size="2"><i>Oral History Project</i></font></div></td></tr></tbody></table></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: black; font-family: "arial","tahoma","helvetica","freesans",sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "arial";"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: black; font-family: "arial","tahoma","helvetica","freesans",sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 1.15; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "arial"; line-height: 1.15;">D’Elia was born in 1911 in Greenwich, after her parents immigrated from Italy several years before. D’Elia attended the Havemeyer School and the high school on Mason Street. After high school she enrolled in secretarial school and then went to work as a secretary at the New England Carpet Cleaning Company. After working there for a few years, D’Elia made a dramatic change in her life. “I was just about twenty-one…and the thought came to me that I would like to start a little business, and then my uncle, A. V. Salvatore, who was a furrier and fine tailoring shop on Greenwich Avenue, had also a little store called Snappy Cleaners, and I asked him, one day could I put in a few ready-to-wear things. And he was reluctant, you know, for a while, and then I kept teasing him. He said, ‘All right.’ So I did.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: black; font-family: "arial","tahoma","helvetica","freesans",sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 1.15; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "arial"; line-height: 1.15;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: black; font-family: "arial","tahoma","helvetica","freesans",sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 1.15; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "arial"; line-height: 1.15;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 400 13.2px/1.15 "arial"; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">D’Elia's next step was to acquire clothes for her budding business. She recounts how “On February 13, 1932, I went to New York with my sister with $270 in the bank; we bought a few skirts, dresses, and sweaters. In those days, you know, you could buy your skirt for about $2.50. You could buy a dress for about $3.75, inexpensive clothes.” D’Elia ended up purchasing “a few sweaters, skirts, and about eight or ten dresses” and put all of her clothes in the front section of Snappy Cleaners. D’Elia observes that it only “takes … one person to get you started,” and for her that one person was Hope Tyson, who bought most of the clothes D’Elia had originally picked out for the store. Along with Mrs. Tyson, Mrs. Meany, the wife of golfer Bill Meany, also became a regular customer. D’Elia recounts their first interaction: “She had come into this little Snappy Cleaners dressed with furs from the top of her head down to her feet, and she said, ‘I’m married to Bill,’ and she said, ‘He loves to play golf, and he wants me to play golf.’ She said, ‘So, what do you have for me?’ So she just shed all her clothes right then and there. She put on a skirt and a top, and from then on she was another wonderful customer."</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: black; font-family: "arial","tahoma","helvetica","freesans",sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 1.15; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "arial"; line-height: 1.15;"><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><br /></span><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; line-height: 1.15;"><tbody style="line-height: 1.15;"><tr style="line-height: 1.15;"><td style="line-height: 1.15; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxyN-4vMCd23APuMvZpJ5nM9x_2e06917n6I5NraBb3ced57z2wYNrE6cGgaJua2apiBWxPMm4w8Fbxrdn9t0jxYze0aRk3tvr7gUEbtWOHux9EnUxaKdBtirDfoIc-Q6dJ7joT-Kcx-cW/s1500/Cotton+Dresses+Ad-03.jpg" style="clear: left; line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="966" data-original-width="1500" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxyN-4vMCd23APuMvZpJ5nM9x_2e06917n6I5NraBb3ced57z2wYNrE6cGgaJua2apiBWxPMm4w8Fbxrdn9t0jxYze0aRk3tvr7gUEbtWOHux9EnUxaKdBtirDfoIc-Q6dJ7joT-Kcx-cW/s320/Cotton+Dresses+Ad-03.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr style="line-height: 1.15;"><td class="tr-caption" style="line-height: 1.15; text-align: center;"><div style="line-height: 1.15;"><font face="georgia" size="2" style="line-height: 1.15;"><i>Greenwich Time</i></font></div><div style="line-height: 1.15;"><font face="georgia" size="2" style="line-height: 1.15;"><i>April 22, 1932</i></font></div><div style="line-height: 1.15;"><font face="georgia" size="2" style="line-height: 1.15;"><i>Courtesy of</i></font></div><div style="line-height: 1.15;"><font face="georgia" size="2" style="line-height: 1.15;"><i>Greenwich Historical Society</i></font></div></td></tr></tbody></table></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: black; font-family: "arial","tahoma","helvetica","freesans",sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 1.15; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "arial"; line-height: 1.15;">Along with the luck she had in acquiring such loyal customers, D’Elia also had quite a bit of luck when it came to buying the clothes for her store. She relates how “every time you went into a wholesale house, they would ask again, ‘Are you rated?’ I said, ‘No.’ And it was a strange feeling because you couldn’t buy anything; you had to be rated before they’d sell to you….So I was borrowing from the tailor in the beginning. I was borrowing from the presser, everyone. The things would be coming C.O.D.”. About two years into running her store D'Elia attempted to go to a credit house in New York City to become established, but, she says, “Nothing came of it. I think he must have had a hearty laugh after we left. He just must have torn the application right up.” However, she had a stroke of luck when she went to Boeppler Sportswear’s wholesale house. “He [the owner] said to me, ‘Chancy,’ he said, ‘I’m going to give you credit on your face value.’” Her lucky streak continued at another wholesale house, called Harry Segal. According to D’Elia, “He had beautiful sweaters, and I was able at times to buy some sweaters off price. There were two brothers, Harry and Dave Segal, and they liked us. They knew that we [D'Elia and her sister] were perfectly innocent kids and they wanted to help us, and they started extending credit. They were both extending me credit, so when they asked me about the rating, I would say, ‘Reference would be so-and-so,’ and that way, between the C.O.D.’s and everything else, I was able to get established.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: black; font-family: "arial","tahoma","helvetica","freesans",sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 1.15; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><div style="line-height: 1.15; text-align: right;"><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><br /></div><span style="font-family: "arial"; line-height: 1.15;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: black; font-family: "arial","tahoma","helvetica","freesans",sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 1.15; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "arial"; line-height: 1.15;">Thanks to the help she received from businessmen who believed in her, after about four years of operating her store out of Snappy<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; line-height: 1.15;"><tbody style="line-height: 1.15;"><tr style="line-height: 1.15;"><td style="line-height: 1.15; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVz4RzrWu8stpxCvmN8JG83KhrHJ7bxpo91aSyPFiWx5wQdhftnGJEcl-Plw9cUZYCxfiL4shNwvJbVZwOXTLWBOjmNCpBbf4qNTF3XEqR_dFOKHQWmWweErRBKYOir413Mh7eNeP7bO4w/s1500/All+Dresses+Ad-02.jpg" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; clear: right; color: #0066cc; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1074" data-original-width="1500" height="185" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVz4RzrWu8stpxCvmN8JG83KhrHJ7bxpo91aSyPFiWx5wQdhftnGJEcl-Plw9cUZYCxfiL4shNwvJbVZwOXTLWBOjmNCpBbf4qNTF3XEqR_dFOKHQWmWweErRBKYOir413Mh7eNeP7bO4w/w256-h185/All+Dresses+Ad-02.jpg" width="256" /></a></td></tr><tr style="line-height: 1.15;"><td class="tr-caption" style="line-height: 1.15; text-align: center;"><div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: black; font-size: 13.2px; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 1.15; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><font face="georgia" size="2" style="line-height: 1.15;"><i>Greenwich Time</i></font></div><div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: black; font-size: 13.2px; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 1.15; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><font face="georgia" size="2" style="line-height: 1.15;"><i>July 10, 1935</i></font></div><div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: black; font-size: 13.2px; font-variant: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 1.15; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: black; font-family: &quot; font-size: 13.2px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 1.15; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><font face="georgia" size="2" style="line-height: 1.15;"><i>Courtesy of</i></font></div><div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: black; font-family: &quot; font-size: 13.2px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 1.15; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><font face="georgia" size="2" style="line-height: 1.15;"><i>Greenwich Historical Society</i></font><br /></div></div></td></tr></tbody></table> Cleaners, D’Elia had enough money and enough merchandise to move into her own store, which happened to be right next to her uncle’s own furs and tailoring store. She described it as “a perfect move.” After staying in this store for another eight years, the owner of the building informed D’Elia that he needed the building back and that her store would have to more elsewhere. Fortunately, her uncle, A. V. Salvatore, was selling his building next door. “The Salvatore Building was an old, old building. It was the Red Cross Building at the time, about 1890 to early 1990’s….In the meantime, he’s torn this building down and put up a new building, and he said to me at the time, he said, ‘I’m going to sell my building.’ ‘Oh,’ I said, ‘you are?’ So he said, <div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: black; font-size: 13.2px; font-variant: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 1.15; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><font face="georgia"></font><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVz4RzrWu8stpxCvmN8JG83KhrHJ7bxpo91aSyPFiWx5wQdhftnGJEcl-Plw9cUZYCxfiL4shNwvJbVZwOXTLWBOjmNCpBbf4qNTF3XEqR_dFOKHQWmWweErRBKYOir413Mh7eNeP7bO4w/s1500/All+Dresses+Ad-02.jpg" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; clear: right; color: #0066cc; float: right; font-family: "quot"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"></a><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><br /></div>‘I want $65,000 for it.’ And I said, ‘Oh, $65,000.’ That was back quite a few years, and I wrote to my husband right away again (who was in the Army Transport Command during World War II)….We naturally negotiated, and we bought the building in January of 1945.” Buying this building was a huge step for D’Elia and her store, and she was thankful she did decide to buy, as her store was able to remain in this same location for the next sixty years.</span></div><div style="line-height: 1.15; text-align: left;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; line-height: 1.15;"><tbody style="line-height: 1.15;"><tr style="line-height: 1.15;"><td style="line-height: 1.15; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZDWpiifsxcciRt1PmIscnkM1Y4in9I4T22KgFRUvJbb-DnqvqWYXLKEI19k1R29OT3SEYQkV6qYEsXE3kyBu1E_IYZM3q1v5SuuJuEw6AB6Bgc1jpCuGP4aweDiB7tT_mTpcEPrSWgsDJ/s1500/Christmas+Ad-02_JPG.jpg" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; clear: left; color: #0066cc; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 400 16px/1.15 "times new roman"; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1334" data-original-width="1500" height="229" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZDWpiifsxcciRt1PmIscnkM1Y4in9I4T22KgFRUvJbb-DnqvqWYXLKEI19k1R29OT3SEYQkV6qYEsXE3kyBu1E_IYZM3q1v5SuuJuEw6AB6Bgc1jpCuGP4aweDiB7tT_mTpcEPrSWgsDJ/w256-h229/Christmas+Ad-02_JPG.jpg" width="256" /></a></td></tr><tr style="line-height: 1.15;"><td class="tr-caption" style="line-height: 1.15; text-align: center;"><div style="line-height: 1.15;"><font face="georgia" size="2" style="line-height: 1.15;"><i>Greenwich Time</i></font></div><div style="line-height: 1.15;"><font face="georgia" size="2" style="line-height: 1.15;"><i>December 24, 1935</i></font></div><div style="line-height: 1.15;"><font face="georgia" size="2" style="line-height: 1.15;"><div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: black; font-family: &quot; font-size: 13.2px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 1.15; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><font face="georgia" size="2" style="line-height: 1.15;"><i>Courtesy of</i></font></div><div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: black; font-family: &quot; font-size: 13.2px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 1.15; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><font face="georgia" size="2" style="line-height: 1.15;"><i>Greenwich Historical Society</i></font><br /></div></font></div></td></tr></tbody></table></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: black; font-family: "arial","tahoma","helvetica","freesans",sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 1.15; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVz4RzrWu8stpxCvmN8JG83KhrHJ7bxpo91aSyPFiWx5wQdhftnGJEcl-Plw9cUZYCxfiL4shNwvJbVZwOXTLWBOjmNCpBbf4qNTF3XEqR_dFOKHQWmWweErRBKYOir413Mh7eNeP7bO4w/s1500/All+Dresses+Ad-02.jpg" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; clear: right; color: #0066cc; float: right; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"></a><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: black; font-family: "arial","tahoma","helvetica","freesans",sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 1.15; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "arial"; line-height: 1.15;">D’Elia explains that her business occupied a niche market in Greenwich. “We had no competition really here, none.” Although she remembers other clothing stores, such as “Frances Clark, The Shirley Shoppe…[and] Favorite Shoe, Finch’s, Boswell’s,” she asserts that her store was the only one “that was just for Greenwich women.” Her store also went through many evolutions. Of the first location, she recalls, “it was mostly sportswear in the bank building. We more or less catered to the juniors, to high school and college girls.” She adds, “Mothers used to come in with their daughters, get them ready for college, selecting their wardrobes. They had their lists with them, and they start from scratch all the way out.” However, when teen’s styles and buying habits started to change, D’Elia took her business in a new direction. She did not label what her store then carried as “mature” but rather as “ageless.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: black; font-family: "arial","tahoma","helvetica","freesans",sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 1.15; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "arial"; line-height: 1.15;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: black; font-size: 13.2px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 1.15; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><div class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: black; font-size: 13.2px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 1.15; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: black; line-height: 1.15;"><span style="color: black; line-height: 1.15;"><font face="arial" style="line-height: 1.15;">She admits she always had good judgment with what to buy and knowing what her customers would want. “Well, usually a buyer had a limit to what, you know, they had the regular form that they go by. You buy so much of this; you buy so much of that. I never had, always, a free hand. I never cared what I spent. I just went in and bought it. We had so many sweaters one time that we supplied practically the whole town.” She continues, “I’m a wild buyer. Always took a chance, never hesitated. Even now, I do that now. I don’t stop. If I think something is good, I’ll go right ahead and buy it.” However, the ever-changing trends in women’s fashion kept D’Elia on her toes. “There have been so many changes,” she says, “from the Chanel look” on. “In fact, one year when the skirts dropped way down—they went to your ankles—that time we had taken a beating, such a beating. We couldn’t sell what we had in stock. I just took the whole mess of them, and I had a nun, a cousin in Italy, and she was with the orphanage, and I packed them all and sent them to her and, of course, I received so many blessings from them.”</font></span></span><br /></div></div><div style="line-height: 1.15; text-align: left;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; line-height: 1.15;"><tbody style="line-height: 1.15;"><tr style="line-height: 1.15;"><td style="line-height: 1.15; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwthI8nWa75LOPJeQFY4-QaHhJe4VlOGL5x2pHJy2AiyBwXWrOu5X4SJQHRMR-41QMY1UuqStcJjJ4YQ1L2Wo9D31rw0PBJ9KW5euPvE3bZZ-iunM2SvC_IyZt3ehpCxAqHZdvYG7l2If6/s2100/Chancey+with+caption+1971-07-28_02.jpg" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; clear: right; color: #0066cc; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 400 13.2px/1.15 "quot"; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2100" data-original-width="960" height="500" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwthI8nWa75LOPJeQFY4-QaHhJe4VlOGL5x2pHJy2AiyBwXWrOu5X4SJQHRMR-41QMY1UuqStcJjJ4YQ1L2Wo9D31rw0PBJ9KW5euPvE3bZZ-iunM2SvC_IyZt3ehpCxAqHZdvYG7l2If6/w229-h500/Chancey+with+caption+1971-07-28_02.jpg" width="229" /></a></td></tr><tr style="line-height: 1.15;"><td class="tr-caption" style="line-height: 1.15; text-align: center;"><div style="line-height: 1.15;"><font face="georgia" size="2" style="line-height: 1.15;">Published in Greenwich Time</font></div><div style="line-height: 1.15;"><font face="georgia" size="2" style="line-height: 1.15;">July 28, 1971</font></div></td></tr></tbody></table></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: black; font-family: "arial","tahoma","helvetica","freesans",sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 1.15; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "arial"; line-height: 1.15;"><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><font face="georgia"></font><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: black; font-family: "arial","tahoma","helvetica","freesans",sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 1.15; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "arial"; line-height: 1.15;">Still at the helm when this interview was conducted, D’Elia proudly asserts, “I buy everything that comes in the store. I buy everything, and I go to the New York market in seasons—spring, summer, fall, resort, holiday….For instance, in the wintertime, I go in for about a week to ten days, every day. Then I go in maybe once every month, and then we have many salesmen come in here, many, many salesmen….Sometimes we have them standing out there, four and five deep, all day long….That saves me a trip into New York.” Although by that time, D’Elia acknowledges, there was a lot of competition in Greenwich and the surrounding towns. Even so, she does not believe these stores affected her business, as by now she had customers who had been with her for decades. Along with the success of her business, D’Elia’s reputation as a respected business owner was also confirmed when she was appointed in 1972 as an associate director of the State National Bank, the second oldest bank in America. Noting that she was the only woman on the board, D’Elia describes the position as “quite an honor.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: black; font-family: "arial","tahoma","helvetica","freesans",sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 1.15; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwthI8nWa75LOPJeQFY4-QaHhJe4VlOGL5x2pHJy2AiyBwXWrOu5X4SJQHRMR-41QMY1UuqStcJjJ4YQ1L2Wo9D31rw0PBJ9KW5euPvE3bZZ-iunM2SvC_IyZt3ehpCxAqHZdvYG7l2If6/s2100/Chancey+with+caption+1971-07-28_02.jpg" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; clear: right; color: #0066cc; float: right; font-size: 13.2px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></a><span style="font-family: "arial"; line-height: 1.15;"><br /></span></div><span style="line-height: 1.15;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: black; font-size: 13.2px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 1.15; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="line-height: 1.15;"><font face="arial" style="line-height: 1.15;">Overall, D’Elia stresses throughout her interview, the importance of having a good community that can help lead the way to success. She acknowledges the help of two of her four sisters who were highly involved with her in the store, stating, “but without my sisters, without my girls, without my customers, nothing would have been possible. It would not have been possible. You can’t do a thing alone. Impossible to do it alone.” She also points out the special relationship she had with her customers, “I call them my friends because I just love them. They’ve known me for so long, and there’s such an affection, and they want to be greeted. Put their arms around you, and listen to their little tales and their little problems. You have to listen to them, and there’s always time for it. Once in awhile a customer will come in and say, ‘Oh, I saw you back there, but you were so busy.’ I’m never too busy to say hello and speak to you, never. I find that’s so important really, and I always say to the girls when a person walks in that door, they have chosen this shop to shop in. They deserve every courtesy extended to them, every courtesy. That’s so important to me. I’d turn myself inside out for them.”</font></span></p><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: black; font-size: 13.2px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 1.15; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><font face="arial"></font><br /></p></span><div class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: black; font-family: "arial","tahoma","helvetica","freesans",sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 1.15; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><div class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: black; font-size: 13.2px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 1.15; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="line-height: 1.15;"><font face="arial" style="line-height: 1.15;"><span style="line-height: 1.15;">One can conclude that D’Elia’s success as a businesswoman, despite her early challenges and obstacles, was due not only to her perseverance and savvy, but also due to her philosophy that “you should work for the fun of it no matter what it is….And the money will come later…</span><span style="font-size: 9pt; line-height: 1.15;"> .</span><span style="line-height: 1.15;">Everything in life is enthusiasm.”</span></font></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: black; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font: 400 13.2px/1.15 "quot"; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><font face="arial"></font><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: black; font-size: 13.2px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 1.15; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: black; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 1.15; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><div class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: black; font-size: 13.2px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 1.15; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><i style="line-height: 1.15;"><span style="color: black; line-height: 1.15;"><font face="arial" style="line-height: 1.15;">Chancy D’elia’s interview, “Chancy’s Background and Business,” conducted by Nancy Wolcott, July 31, 1975, can be read in the Oral History Project office in Greenwich Library.</font></span></i><br /></div></div></div></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: black; font-family: "arial","tahoma","helvetica","freesans",sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 1.15; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "arial"; line-height: 1.15;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); border-image: none; border: 1px solid rgb(235, 235, 235); box-shadow: 1px 1px 5px rgba(0,0,0,0.1); color: #222222; line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 5px; position: relative; text-align: center;"><tbody style="line-height: 1.15;"><tr style="line-height: 1.15;"><td style="line-height: 1.15; text-align: center;"><font size="2"></font><font face="arial"></font><br /></td></tr><tr style="line-height: 1.15;"><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 10.56px; line-height: 1.15; text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: black; font-family: "arial","tahoma","helvetica","freesans",sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 1.15; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "arial"; line-height: 1.15;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: black; font-family: "arial","tahoma","helvetica","freesans",sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 1.15; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><font face=""></font><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: black; font-family: "arial","tahoma","helvetica","freesans",sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><i><font face=""></font></i><br /></div>oral history adminhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00231094595333269577noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2436776000619507499.post-15891668392906682282020-05-16T17:27:00.004-04:002020-05-17T22:05:24.527-04:00<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">On
Memorial Day we honor those who have given their lives in the service of our
country and all who fought to defend our freedoms. Greenwich Library Oral
Project blogger Joseph Campbell offers highlights of an interview with Robert
Wylie that was conducted by project volunteer Connie Gibb in 2019. Mr. Wylie, longtime
Greenwich resident who recently moved to Redding, CT, fought admirably in World
War II as a tail gunner on a B-17 Flying Fortress and shares his experiences.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: black; float: right; font-family: &quot; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 0.5em; orphans: 2; padding-bottom: 6px; padding-left: 6px; padding-right: 6px; padding-top: 6px; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0z-xYJ7trg2b_wRYBgFEojKuHOeLMdUMe63inNYTrjfnkOsGudHBikJ13EphcXjMmeeZBPMIyoq3LBhFjIybvWbS2_yHngSCH21nx6Pz63f70x7J-qjPFkELkaqUxnWt5Pxms5ss3TNw-/s1600/_DSC0359.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1063" data-original-width="1600" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0z-xYJ7trg2b_wRYBgFEojKuHOeLMdUMe63inNYTrjfnkOsGudHBikJ13EphcXjMmeeZBPMIyoq3LBhFjIybvWbS2_yHngSCH21nx6Pz63f70x7J-qjPFkELkaqUxnWt5Pxms5ss3TNw-/s320/_DSC0359.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></span></a></div>
</td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 80%; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>Bob Wylie and a B-17 Flying Fortress</i></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>courtesy of James P. Wylie</i></span></div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><span style="font-size: x-small;"></span><i></i><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Admiral William </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“Bull” Halsey once said, “There are no extraordinary men, just
extraordinary circumstances that ordinary men are forced to deal with.” To read
the interview of Bob Wylie, one would hardly consider him to be an ordinary
man. Bob came of age in a world that was to be plunged into a global war with
destruction on a scale unprecedented in human history. Bob, and millions of
other men and women, joined the military without hesitation to defeat the Axis
powers of Germany, Italy, and Japan.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Bob
was in high school in Stony Brook, New York, when the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941. In the aftermath of the attack and in their zeal to
se<br />
</span><br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
</div>
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
rve, Bob and two of his friends initially decided they would join the Marine
Corps. Bob’s father was an intelligence officer in the New York National Guard
and eventually served in the United States Army Air Corps. He quickly
disillusioned Bob from serving in the Marines and, instead, Bob entered the
Army Air Corps pilot cadet program. However, since he was dyslexic, he trained
in gunnery school in Denver, Colorado. Although Bob enlisted at 17 years of
age, he did not leave for training until 1943 and was not sent to Europe until
1944.</span>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It
is hard to imagine today the circumstances that existed during World War II. By
1943, the British and the Americans were constantly bombing occupied Europe. Every
day, thousands of young men would climb into planes to attack Hitler’s Fortress
Europa. There was a steep and deadly learning curve when it came to fighting
the Germans. The Luftwaffe, the Nazi air force, was a tough and determined foe
and, even as it was being defeated, the Allies lost a staggering number of air
crews on missions over Europe. At times, the Allies put 1,000 planes into the
air on a single mission—a feat that is hard to imagine even today.</span><br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqen95qynjqO_uhpMYLZpOfkyx3x7SaHLLrVool0g7rxfmapkokcjWS7iF1vRM2BkmXILOb8ZL8nDyMoZeSNQVJsf1Qw6RNW7rdq864GoGIo9GQMokKI6pDXjhGTMCGGBjCRP-qIsPW3Vt/s1600/71QYaUpU6wL+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; clear: left; color: #0066cc; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="963" data-original-width="1280" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqen95qynjqO_uhpMYLZpOfkyx3x7SaHLLrVool0g7rxfmapkokcjWS7iF1vRM2BkmXILOb8ZL8nDyMoZeSNQVJsf1Qw6RNW7rdq864GoGIo9GQMokKI6pDXjhGTMCGGBjCRP-qIsPW3Vt/s320/71QYaUpU6wL+%25281%2529.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>Boeing B-17 Flying Fortress</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">When
you read Bob’s story, you meet a man who is humble. While discussing his
missions over Europe, he talks about how much worse it was for the airmen in
1943 and early 1944 since the Luftwaffe had not yet been worn down by the
Allied forces. However, that humility belies the danger that Bob and his fellow
airmen faced every day. The war was far from over when Bob arrived in England in
1944. His story is both amazing and tragic as he speaks about the experience of
flying in freezing temperatures with open windows at high altitudes facing
German fighter and anti-aircraft fire. (Do not miss his description of the
clothing he wore on these missions.). Bob lost friends from school, including
one on the same mission in which he was flying.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Bob
tells about the time his father, a Colonel in the Army Air Corps, visited him
in England. In this segment of the interview, he gives a snippet of his
father’s time in WWII as well. Bob also talks about what life was like at home
for his mother. It is easy to forget that those left behind were often forced
to deal with not knowing the fate of loved ones. Most communication was through
letters and mail took a long time to arrive from overseas. In addition,
lifestyles were altered by the war as Army pay was often not the equivalent of
civilian pay.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">In his interview, Bob describes the men with whom he served and their missions as
well as what occurred if they were shot down and captured. Bob flew missions
over occupied Western Europe, Germany, Poland, and Czechoslovakia. Although his
story is a fascinating one on its own, it is made even more so when one
realizes that it is the story of so many of his generation—a story of lives
interrupted in order to defeat true evil in the world.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Bob’s
interview also delves into other aspects of his life. He discusses the
discrimination and segregationist policies of the US military at the time and
how these experiences led him later into his involvement in the civil rights
movement. He describes in detail coming home after the war and becoming
involved in his church and Democratic politics in Greenwich and the state.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Bob’s
interview is a wonderful story of an amazing life. It should be read, not just
by residents of Greenwich, but by everyone. It is a fascinating insight into
the experience of an American man who came of age in a life-altering time and
carries the lessons of his experiences with him.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="color: windowtext;">As with all our interview transcripts, the Robert Wylie
transcript may be read at Greenwich Library and is available for purchase at
the Oral History Project office. The Oral History Project is sponsored by the
Friends of the Greenwich Library. Visit the OHP website at glohistory.org.</span></i><span style="color: windowtext;"> —Mary
Jacobson, OHP blog editor</span></span><br />
<span style="color: windowtext;"><br />
<br />
</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<span style="color: windowtext;">
</span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span>oral history adminhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00231094595333269577noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2436776000619507499.post-54123600435659968732020-05-11T15:51:00.002-04:002020-05-14T15:12:16.487-04:00<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
</div>
<div style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrCsDPUwuEILy7tVp46udMvdhE3D9q_gKG3p1CqOIvv61czJ52J3riRW0M_Djh8YnSdtbqAX3oFkLCriF96lLgA9rhS6nSAmVV3zidw_uyduVLEFzU04ByjOHwzfEnKwgzWBuEd1bl-7iK/s1600/Gilman-Cropped_DSC0359.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "book antiqua" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">In recognition of the fiftieth
anniversary of Earth Day, Greenwich Library Oral History Project student
blogger <b>Noor Rekhi </b>offers highlights of an interview with <b>Ted Gilman</b>
by project volunteer <b>Laurie Heiss</b>. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "book antiqua" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Ted Gilman retired at the end of January
after forty-three years with the Greenwich Audubon Center, where he served as
Senior Naturalist and Education Specialist. His love for flora and fauna was
kindled as a young child in Montclair, New Jersey, where he grew up playing outdoors, and developed a love for ornithology. He continued this passion at Earlham College,
where he studied natural history, and at Cornell University, where he
participated in a graduate program in the Department of Natural Resources. </span></div>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUeqfmw0zVZp-dLYANLZ8RWf31QLJ1hRoWpYbop_h9Jr0Q0oOPibpp0Q6GgBE8y_OeuW6E538hbmuKlQzB7tKGVUiamM0I5OA0h2hw2I-ipNLItYFf3AhSru0CqUd9ISXiiAFRMpUfEmVw/s1600/Gilman-nature++walk-cropped.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1530" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUeqfmw0zVZp-dLYANLZ8RWf31QLJ1hRoWpYbop_h9Jr0Q0oOPibpp0Q6GgBE8y_OeuW6E538hbmuKlQzB7tKGVUiamM0I5OA0h2hw2I-ipNLItYFf3AhSru0CqUd9ISXiiAFRMpUfEmVw/s200/Gilman-nature++walk-cropped.jpg" width="191" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div>
<i>Ted Gilman leading a nature walk </i></div>
<div>
<i>at Greenwich Audubon Center</i></div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "book antiqua" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Mr. Gilman first honed his skills as an
educator in the 1970s when he worked for a Toledo-based program that sought to
give fifth graders in Ohio a chance to experience the great outdoors. His
experience with Audubon began in 1974 when he became a bird life instructor at an <span style="background-color: white; color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-family: "book antiqua" , serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 48px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">Audubon camp in Maine. Gilman continued to spend two more summers at the camp
before coming to Greenwich in 1977 to work for Greenwich Audubon as an
education specialist and naturalist. During that summer, he worked in the
Audubon Ecology Workshop for Educators; he was named director of the program
the following year. The workshop taught teachers from across America and
overseas how to embrace and connect with natural surroundings so that they
could bring those same lessons to their </span>students. Mr. Gilman greatly enjoyed
many aspects of teaching in that program, noting that it “was the opportunity
to help adults have child-like experiences.” Through this workshop he gave an
invaluable experience to the teachers involved and their future students;
everyone should have the opportunity to embrace nature and hone the ability to
connect with it. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "book antiqua" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: black; float: right; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 0.5em; orphans: 2; padding: 6px; text-align: right; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 48px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMK2wHF4x1Y59FLhsku3biVGg5xPK3eSL77wZxoRGzIHwQpJdgceWuDjEJiAYa2WjwzyrLxLIq-TEORWy5bnNXr1T-ds3ymGXqKj0OXhgn7wXXesDUGseDy1bVsBZGWy4y09L4Vf-rQhPL/s1600/Gilman-teaching-cropped.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="929" data-original-width="1378" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMK2wHF4x1Y59FLhsku3biVGg5xPK3eSL77wZxoRGzIHwQpJdgceWuDjEJiAYa2WjwzyrLxLIq-TEORWy5bnNXr1T-ds3ymGXqKj0OXhgn7wXXesDUGseDy1bVsBZGWy4y09L4Vf-rQhPL/s200/Gilman-teaching-cropped.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
</td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 80%; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;"><div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<i>Ted Gilman teaching children about </i></div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<i>birds at the Greenwich Audubon Center</i></div>
</div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
While in the summer he worked at the
Audubon Ecology Workshop for Educators, during the other seasons he worked in
the Volunteer Teacher-Naturalist program, which allows children to explore
nature and wildlife in small group settings. Through this program, Gilman reached
thousands of students, many of whom have gone on to pursue natural history
studies themselves. He fondly expressed his enthusiasm towards helping children
get in touch with the outdoors, saying, “It’s that fun of seeing the kids have
the opportunity to get out and explore outside the four walls of the school.
And whether it is peering at a tiny little nymph of the spittlebug on a stem of
a plant in spring, or tadpoles and frogs, or seeing hawks soaring overhead, I
think it’s trying to help children have that ‘oh, wow’ experience of the
new—the new discovery, the new awareness and exploring and discovering of the
natural world, hopefully widening their horizons.”<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
</div>
</span></div>
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><br />
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "book antiqua" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">
</span>
<div style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "book antiqua" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Through his work, Gilman has taught
many children and adults to cherish the environment and realize the need for
conservation not only in protected wildlife sanctuaries, but also in our own
backyards. Although in this modern world many of us find ourselves <span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: black; display: inline !important; float: none; font-family: "book antiqua" , serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 48px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">more
connected to our screens than the environment, Mr. Gilman works to preserve our
Earth for all its future children. The next time you gaze upon the foliage and
fauna that grace Greenwich or experience an “oh, wow,” moment while watching
nature, note Ted Gilman’s contributions in sustaining our communal home. None
of us is alone; we are connected to every person, animal, plant, and mineral in
the universe. By connecting children and adults with feathered and finned
friends alike, Mr. Gilman allows us to return to a child’s awareness of the interdependence
of everyone and every living thing.</span></span></div>
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "book antiqua" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">
</span>
<div style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "book antiqua" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Mary Jacobson, OHP blog editor<br />
<i><br />
As with all our interview transcripts, the Ted Gilman transcript may be read at
Greenwich Library and is available for purchase at the Oral History Project
office. The Oral History Project is sponsored by the Friends of the Greenwich
Library. Visit the OHP website at glohistory.org.</i></span></div>
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>oral history adminhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00231094595333269577noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2436776000619507499.post-62544654755933916562020-03-10T16:06:00.003-04:002020-03-10T16:20:53.328-04:00<div class="Body" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 63.0pt; margin-right: 63.0pt; margin-top: 0in; text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 16px;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Meredith Sampson, Wildlife Rehabilitator</b></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "book antiqua", serif; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "book antiqua" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">To mark World Wildlife Day, celebrated in
March, and its 2020 theme “Sustaining all life on Earth,” we feature Meredith
Sampson, wildlife rehabilitator, who was interviewed by Project volunteer Sally
McHale on June 5, 2018.</span></i></div>
</div>
</div>
<div class="Body">
<div class="Body">
<i><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "book antiqua" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZkS-OJMhW8tCssgB5dE5iZbYhDqJ213ZOkOMxVioEWMupvvoWMPlG4_BqKY6SWTAZNKVVNlLEG44AJ19g8qnbSynyxwaY0l5QiPH0e1S4e7OT-KyLpv7_wH4f96beqaDFu14CKJSvXBs_/s1600/Meredith+Sampson-Cropped1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: left;"><img border="0" data-original-height="327" data-original-width="262" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZkS-OJMhW8tCssgB5dE5iZbYhDqJ213ZOkOMxVioEWMupvvoWMPlG4_BqKY6SWTAZNKVVNlLEG44AJ19g8qnbSynyxwaY0l5QiPH0e1S4e7OT-KyLpv7_wH4f96beqaDFu14CKJSvXBs_/s200/Meredith+Sampson-Cropped1.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="160" /></a><span style="font-family: "book antiqua" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "book antiqua" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Meredith Sampson is a wildlife
rehabilitator and environmental educator. She oversees the non-profit Wild
Wings, LLC and is often the person called upon to help when someone encounters a
lost, injured, or orphaned baby bird, squirrel, or owl. It is not unusual for her
to find small animals left at her door by a well-meaning person who is
uncertain of what to do to help them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Body">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body">
<span style="font-family: "book antiqua" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>With birds, Ms. Sampson advises
people to first determine the baby bird’s condition and age. If it is uninjured
and not too young, it can be placed near the nest area so that the bird’s
parents may do their job of caring for it. Excessive handling, feeding, or
moving of the bird can put it in a more precarious position. If, however, the
animal is in need of care, Ms. Sampson suggests “If you’ve found injured or
orphaned wildlife, or wildlife that you think might need help, get it into a
secure container that’s well ventilated and put it somewhere in a quiet, warm
place, and keep it away from people and pets. Then call me.” After rehabilitating
the bird, Ms. Sampson would then release it into its habitat.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Body">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body">
<span style="font-family: "book antiqua" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Ms. Sampson also initiated the First
Sunday Bird Walks at Greenwich Point Park in 2005 under the original
co-sponsorship of Wild Wings, the Bruce Museum, and Greenwich Audubon Center. As
of 2019, Friends of Greenwich Point became co-sponsor with Wild Wings. These
bird walks are free and open to the public of all ages. They provide an
opportunity to experience the amazing biodiversity of Greenwich Point with its
beach, meadows, woodlands, and marshes. “It’s an extraordinary place. It’s like
nature’s classroom,” says Meredith Sampson. It provides an opportunity to
appreciate the effects of climate change on various species and the migration
patterns of birds, as well as many other aspects of nature that may be
otherwise overlooked in our day-to-day busy lives. In addition to observing
bird life, participants observe the seasonal changes of insects including
butterflies, plants, and other animals. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Body">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body">
<span style="font-family: "book antiqua" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Ms. Sampson also works with Audubon
Center to do annual Christmas and summer bird counts in our local area. She has
been performing this valuable service for almost forty years and has counted as
many as seventy species in one area alone. Over the years, she has observed how
changes in our environment have affected native species. “Whatever is happening
in the environment can affect bird populations and this is something we need to
pay attention to.” For example, Ms. Sampson describes how the results of
certain bird species counts may differ dramatically from year to year due to
various causes—some understood, others not. For example, when the West Nile
virus became prevalent in our area in 1999, there was a dramatic drop in the
bird count of crows and a number were found that were unable to stand or fly
and were having seizures before dying. After animal autopsies at University of
Connecticut at Storrs and extensive research, it was determined that the crows
had contracted a virus that had infected an exotic bird from Africa housed at
the Bronx Zoo and was carried by mosquitoes to other bird species and,
subsequently, to humans. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Body">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body">
<span style="font-family: "book antiqua" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Questions arise when the migration
patterns of certain bird species changes. For example, why are wood thrushes no
longer prevalent in our area? What happened to the population of
yellow-throated warblers that used to be here in far greater number? Has their
southern habitat been deforested? These are only some of the questions which
can arise as one keenly observes the environment as Meredith Sampson does. She
underscores the importance of understanding the relationship between what we do
to our environment and how that affects the species that inhabit it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Body">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body">
<span style="font-family: "book antiqua" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Ms. Sampson also is a proponent of
replanting native plants, trees, and shrubs in order to continue to provide the
food and shelter that our birds and animals need to survive. This includes
planting milkweed which monarch butterflies depend on for food.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She supports the removal of invasive plant
species like garlic mustard and porcelain berry that choke our native ones.
“The key factors of a successful habitat is that it provides shelter, food, and
opportunity to reproduce. If any one of these links is broken, we witness
dramatic effects,” she tells us.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Body">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body">
<span style="font-family: "book antiqua" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>In her interview, Ms. Sampson
recounts many unusual and often humorous situations in her career as a wildlife
rescuer and rehabilitator. One is the story of a creative rescue in Greenwich
Point. It involved Ms. Sampson with a 60-foot-high crane, a wicker basket from
McArdle’s Florist & Garden Center, and a hapless baby owl that had fallen from its ill-made nest. Find
out additional details by reading the transcript of her interview.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Body">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body">
<span style="font-family: "book antiqua" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>We have much to learn from the
wealth of experience Meredith Sampson brings to our understanding of wildlife
and its relationship to our environment. As she has said, “We need to seriously
restore habitat and create new habitat. We’ve got to treat this earth with a
lot more kindness... This is the only planet we have, the only home that we
have. And this, all this, is what sustains us.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Body">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body">
<span style="font-family: "book antiqua" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Mary
Jacobson, OHP blog writer and editor<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Body">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body">
<i><span style="font-family: "book antiqua" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">As
with all our interview transcripts, the Meredith Sampson transcript may be read
at Greenwich Library and is available for purchase at the Oral History Project
office. The Oral History Project is sponsored by the Friends of the Greenwich
Library. Visit the OHP website at glohistory.org.</span></i></div>
oral history adminhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00231094595333269577noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2436776000619507499.post-29881948528983591912020-02-11T17:03:00.002-05:002020-02-11T17:03:26.043-05:00<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>Celebrating Black History Month</b></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><em>February is Black History Month, a time to reflect on African
American residents of our town who have made a difference. The Oral History
Project has, over the years, interviewed a number of African American Greenwich
residents whose struggles and accomplishments benefited those who followed
them. One such person is Gertrude Johnson Steadwell, interviewed at the age of
81 in 1990. Gertrude was a determined, strong, capable woman who was not afraid
to do something about racial discrimination when she encountered
it. A proud woman, she broke the color barrier in a number of areas.
Her story is an admirable one to highlight for Black History Month.<o:p></o:p></em></span></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">In her interview of 1990, <b>Gertrude Johnson Steadwell,</b> born in 1909, says she is happy for the opportunity to tell of the struggles she encountered in Greenwich as an early activist in the civil rights movement. “It was tough going,” she says, but it was worth it. It was really worth it.”<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span><br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_iK_-__UJceImR-EZLHYkq4B7sv-YEsAsgjb2WqnyCIdrz6409t0XHPdglNIJEyrbcpwjslnnNw1uyzv1BhjlN46yujgXXMf75kvmnv-N3tQ78N0OXcflRvG7cPRCmEFLtBWD4iDI6vP_/s1600/Steadwell+-+small.tif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_iK_-__UJceImR-EZLHYkq4B7sv-YEsAsgjb2WqnyCIdrz6409t0XHPdglNIJEyrbcpwjslnnNw1uyzv1BhjlN46yujgXXMf75kvmnv-N3tQ78N0OXcflRvG7cPRCmEFLtBWD4iDI6vP_/s1600/Steadwell+-+small.tif" width="236" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px; text-align: center;">Gertrude Johnson Steadwell</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Gertrude Johnson Steadwell, was by nature, a gregarious, open young girl, a joiner. She has warm memories of all the girls in their pretty dresses and the boys all dressed up for the annual Maypole activities, once a Greenwich schools tradition. She played basketball and field hockey, was interested in art and had her work exhibited and began to show an early talent for design. As involved as she was in high school, she also knew that in athletics she had crossed the color line, being generally the only “woman of color” on her teams.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span><br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Longing to become a member of the Camp Fire Girls, she was disheartened to learn that she could not. “Because of my color I couldn’t get in. I was really very disgusted about it,” she says. She was determined from that time on to do something about racial discrimination. She seems to have been born with a gene enabling her to recognize injustice when she saw it, igniting in her a desire to work toward change.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoM4SlFYAy0_oFcO39xRT_Zv52LH_uzjGkjBR4JbzSWV-jWVZF_DyOisKdmT43yDFQb_NUwp21ImLHpbmme5Ojts8otsYRA5PLsEoQc-K_6IwkVuGMAwPTs5cH9I1JEQAGOSKXawvg_9Ji/s1600/Steadwell5-small.tif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="242" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoM4SlFYAy0_oFcO39xRT_Zv52LH_uzjGkjBR4JbzSWV-jWVZF_DyOisKdmT43yDFQb_NUwp21ImLHpbmme5Ojts8otsYRA5PLsEoQc-K_6IwkVuGMAwPTs5cH9I1JEQAGOSKXawvg_9Ji/s1600/Steadwell5-small.tif" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px; text-align: center;">The Maypoles of Greenwich, a favorite memory</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">As an adult she seized the opportunity to make a difference. In the late 1930s, she and her husband, Orville Steadwell, joined The Action Committee on Jobs for Negroes, an organization that became a part of the Greenwich chapter of the NAACP, of which Gertrude and her husband were founding members. She also formed the Southwestern Connecticut Committee on Fair Employment Practices. Her work led to a bill being passed in the state legislature ensuring fair employment for blacks. “This was the biggest thing I’ve ever done,” she says of this period in her life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">In the midst of all her work to enhance workplace opportunities, Ms. Steadwell found time to raise a family of four, to break another color line becoming an interior decorator in Greenwich, being a member of many civic organizations, an active member of her church, and a recognized community leader.</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRCUihXzc4x8Hg1_N0qO8Hh4tfRZu5rjZaeaa97SX5Md68-BrCdzmQMartp_Epc_vZIB4bnJ7IJ6x5tXhA_1pT5aJtcS1NK942JpYQvcsPwIjq5u0rbQdC-wFcqBulUw9iZ5EcNrxTzzy3/s1600/Steadwell3-small.tif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="222" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRCUihXzc4x8Hg1_N0qO8Hh4tfRZu5rjZaeaa97SX5Md68-BrCdzmQMartp_Epc_vZIB4bnJ7IJ6x5tXhA_1pT5aJtcS1NK942JpYQvcsPwIjq5u0rbQdC-wFcqBulUw9iZ5EcNrxTzzy3/s1600/Steadwell3-small.tif" width="320" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span><br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Looking back over the years and the changes that have occurred, Ms. Steadwell concludes in her interview that much has changed for the better. She cites improved employment opportunities and improved choices, much as a result of affirmative action. Her own children were able to see the fruits of these changes having achieved good educations and jobs. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“I’m really glad that I could tell you,” she tells our interviewer. “I figured one day it would come in good. Not for me, for my children, I was thinking.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And “good” for the many others who followed after her, in the path she helped to clear.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Gertrude Johnson Steadwell died in Greenwich, August 15, 2007, at the age of ninety-eight.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Oral History Project book, </i>A Civil Rights Activist: Gertrude Steadwell<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">, is available for $10 in the Oral History Project office of the Greenwich Library.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: black; font-family: -webkit-standard; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;">
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span><br /></div>
</div>
</span><br /></div>
oral history adminhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00231094595333269577noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2436776000619507499.post-77629514929191774832019-12-28T18:01:00.000-05:002020-01-07T09:14:29.521-05:00For the Love of Scientific Inquiry<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: "arial";">To begin the new year, our student blogger, <b>Noor Rekhi </b>of Greenwich Academy, offers the following highlights from a recent Greenwich Library Oral History Project interview, “Andrew Bramante,” conducted by project volunteer <b>Sally McHale.<o:p></o:p></b></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: "arial";">Jean P. Moore, OHP blog editor<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: "arial";"><br /></span></i></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG4xOGukDN9bO5IfAIXeonIHwkm-MQ_UlfUWJeJbjkxAxfLidgygnzbHrVxAwBomynZVWog-aQW2gTtO_wOERVQGEe9vRoABoG7_9eZwPJfxw6zLj3jVjdTRfw4PsnyHaQl475mAh8T5gx/s1600/Noor+Rekhi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1419" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG4xOGukDN9bO5IfAIXeonIHwkm-MQ_UlfUWJeJbjkxAxfLidgygnzbHrVxAwBomynZVWog-aQW2gTtO_wOERVQGEe9vRoABoG7_9eZwPJfxw6zLj3jVjdTRfw4PsnyHaQl475mAh8T5gx/s200/Noor+Rekhi.jpg" width="176" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Noor Rekhi, student blogger</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: "arial";"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial";">This </span><span style="font-family: "arial";">month we are dedicating our blog to <b>Andrew Bramante</b>, an inspiring and passionate teacher at Greenwich High School. Mr. Bramante has worked at Greenwich High School for fourteen years <span style="color: red;"></span>and is the subject of Heather Won Tesoriero’s book <i>T</i></span><i><span style="background-color: white; color: #111111; font-family: "arial";">he Class: A Life-Changing Teacher, His World-Changing Kids, and the Most Inventive Classroom in America </span></i><span style="background-color: white; color: #111111; font-family: "arial";">(2018)</span><span style="font-family: "times";">. </span><span style="font-family: "arial";">The book f</span><span style="font-family: "arial";">ollows Mr. Bramante with the emphasis on the impact he has had on his students.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial";">Prior to teaching, Mr. Bramante worked as a corporate scientist for firms among the likes of PerkinElmer and Hitachi. He came to Greenwich High School upon the suggestion of friend and fellow teacher Ray Hamilton. While he initially started teaching chemistry, he eventually took over Mr. Hamiliton’s science class, an elective often described as </span><span style="font-family: "arial";">a research lab. The class, a standout by reputation over the years, has garnered its share of awards, but, as Mr. Bramante attests, the attention came largely as a result of the Google Science Fair, won by science class student Olivia Hallisey.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4Z-xEu5zoLI_A0xAQaMHl2_shEFSUnr6LhD-ZjeqMyJeZGyQNe670OM0Rt9HOF-7DiwcCbGdPosOdcdeyGFIVEXdrZrl7Zvsd8fO6NmQg9NCIcXapjIvmV0kgSNULn0MEJGxBpqgaYxQT/s1600/51k10uc6xyL._SX327_BO1%252C204%252C203%252C200_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="499" data-original-width="329" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4Z-xEu5zoLI_A0xAQaMHl2_shEFSUnr6LhD-ZjeqMyJeZGyQNe670OM0Rt9HOF-7DiwcCbGdPosOdcdeyGFIVEXdrZrl7Zvsd8fO6NmQg9NCIcXapjIvmV0kgSNULn0MEJGxBpqgaYxQT/s200/51k10uc6xyL._SX327_BO1%252C204%252C203%252C200_.jpg" width="131" /></a></div>
<o:p></o:p><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial";">Through his research lab, Mr. Bramante has supported and encouraged the scientific curiosity of his students and has led them to great success. Under his guidance, students have gone on to pursue groundbreaking research in their fields, win the highest award at the Google Science Fair</span><span style="font-family: "arial";">, <span style="color: red;"></span>and receive an invitation to the Nobel Prize Ceremony in Stockholm. Students in Mr. Bramante’s class are chosen not for their grades, but for their genuine desire to pursue scientific knowledge. Mr. Bramante chooses students by having them submit project proposals. While students rarely continue with the projects they originally submit, it's the passion that shines through in the proposals that enables their entry to the class.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix1RML6bSJePWvZyZS1od0T0SqP7Qw7NTrbI_zghKMIWvjL8dFtzLln2-5fAxxj2gUhP0GmYGmYuJgj8lyxKaIGCRBj5fGTKa-u68QvWzBmUqAiu_31gahBcWUCwQcxJrrNVYPbKEoIMKZ/s1600/2958+-+Bramante+class3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix1RML6bSJePWvZyZS1od0T0SqP7Qw7NTrbI_zghKMIWvjL8dFtzLln2-5fAxxj2gUhP0GmYGmYuJgj8lyxKaIGCRBj5fGTKa-u68QvWzBmUqAiu_31gahBcWUCwQcxJrrNVYPbKEoIMKZ/s320/2958+-+Bramante+class3.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mr. Bramante with his science students</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial";">The </span><span style="font-family: "arial";">research lab’s open curriculum enables these young scientists to pursue any of their interests, no matter how seemingly complex. Mr. Bramante helps aid their scientific process by offering guidance, researching topics along with them, and securing necessary materials for their work. However, the lessons given in class go beyond science and school; Mr. Bramante fosters a genuine desire for learning within his students, while teaching them necessary life skills and habits of the mind. When describing the elective, Mr. Bramante said of his students that they would “learn how to imagine, create, articulate, all the things that transcend even a science career. Kids that leave this class do all kinds of things, and I’d like to think that they learn how to be a positive force within our society.”</span><span style="font-family: , serif; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<div style="font-family: cambria;">
<span style="font-family: "arial";">While students in the class have achieved many honors, Mr. Bramante recognizes that their success will be measured </span><span style="font-family: "arial";">not only by accruing accolades, but also by honing a strong work ethic, scientific curiosity, and an aspiration to better the world through their discoveries. He recognizes that learning opportunities arise <span style="color: red;"></span>in all places, in and outside the classroom, and that even failing gives <span style="color: red;"></span>students an opportunity to reflect and aspire to do better. Mr. Bramante’s edifying approach to teaching not only has every student in his class benefitting, but also society, as his creative <span style="color: red;"></span>methods encourage a next generation of scientists to flourish.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: , serif; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial";"><br /></span></span><i style="font-family: cambria;"><span style="font-family: "arial";">Call </span></i><i style="font-family: cambria;"><span style="font-family: "arial";">the Oral History Project office at (203) 622-7945 for more information regarding the</span></i><i style="font-family: cambria;"><span style="font-family: "arial";"> interview, “Andrew Bramante” (#2958, March 29, 2019). </span></i><br />
<i style="font-family: cambria;"><span style="font-family: "arial";"><br /><br /></span></i><span style="font-family: , serif; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
oral history adminhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00231094595333269577noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2436776000619507499.post-21001191577292292772019-11-20T14:45:00.000-05:002019-12-04T14:17:33.370-05:00James M. MacKay, Greenwich Resident and WWII Veteran<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Continuing to honor our veterans, guest blogger <b>Joseph Campbell </b>contributes this post on WW II veteran <b>James M. Mackay</b>.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaoJREvC75OceSnbwX6mf5e2HndkPU4pih8oZ5iya2vXj7ZDR3Rcucs9pnfNLgvRxh616Vsou8vyxnnYFGYDLLsd2sxSBBYOxRnVjC2gGyGMQragg70M47tJbtU8Qu77bhl6tHKcXLDbBW/s1600/Honor-Flight-FI.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="465" data-original-width="620" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaoJREvC75OceSnbwX6mf5e2HndkPU4pih8oZ5iya2vXj7ZDR3Rcucs9pnfNLgvRxh616Vsou8vyxnnYFGYDLLsd2sxSBBYOxRnVjC2gGyGMQragg70M47tJbtU8Qu77bhl6tHKcXLDbBW/s320/Honor-Flight-FI.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: start;">
<i>During an Honor Flight to Washington D.C., James M. MacKay with Lt. Joshua Albright [Contributed photo] </i></div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Greenwich resident James M. Mackay (born January 19, 1921) was interviewed for the Oral History Project on September 8, 2008, by volunteer <b>Harriet Feldman</b>. His interview offers a fascinating glimpse into his life growing up and living in Greenwich, amid the hardships of the depression, foreclosures, and then life on a working farm. He describes it as a “self-sustaining” farm where the family “grew corn, potatoes, raised chickens, rabbits, cows, horses, pigs.” They also had a root cellar for carrots and potatoes.</span><span style="font-family: "book antiqua";"></span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Mr.</span><span style="font-family: "book antiqua";"></span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">MacKay says it was “a great life. Oh, it was just a fabulous life when I think back on it now.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">His idyllic boyhood would be cut short not long after graduating from Greenwich High School. He notes that there was no money for college, and World War II would begin shortly after his graduation. Mr. MacKay worked briefly at a local bank before being drafted into the Army in 1942.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Inducted at Camp Devens in Massachusetts, he then was sent to Fort McCullen in Alabama for infantry training. He arrived there, he tells us, having no particular specialized skillset that the Army needed at the time. Following his stint at Fort McCullen in Alabama, he was sent to Fort Leonard Wood in Missouri for more training and then to the California Desert, Yuma Arizona, and California along the Colorado River. He explains that they were training for combat in North Africa, but the North African campaign had ended by the time they were finished with training. As a result, they were sent to New Jersey and then to Ireland to prepare for the liberation of Europe, D-Day. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;"> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-UkTpFbE3hWt6zkzHYhHbcCtnZIBeCNvgt-liGGiX7BD3X9k6aFPDJpCwfWnsfrvyZixIGt_u7K6Jw2hMNeqvp4xm12sKtjsGWJp8jqYXO4-kSV3sVYnPfDBBAqk5-wGJrQkI8QzVXj4K/s1600/745px-Into_the_Jaws_of_Death_23-0455M_edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="745" height="321" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-UkTpFbE3hWt6zkzHYhHbcCtnZIBeCNvgt-liGGiX7BD3X9k6aFPDJpCwfWnsfrvyZixIGt_u7K6Jw2hMNeqvp4xm12sKtjsGWJp8jqYXO4-kSV3sVYnPfDBBAqk5-wGJrQkI8QzVXj4K/s400/745px-Into_the_Jaws_of_Death_23-0455M_edit.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i style="font-size: 14.666666984558105px; text-align: start;">Photo: “Into the Jaws of Death,” Public Domain </i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;"></span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 12pt;">And thus, James M. MacKay became part of the historic Normandy invasion. Just prior to the invasion, he was transferred from the Eighth Division to Army Signal Corps and placed in an intelligence unit. Mr. MacKay describes his job as locating where the enemy tanks and units were. He was assigned to General Patton’s Third Army. He fought across Normandy and past Paris, eventually crossing into Germany and meeting up with the Russians at Salzburg.</span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">As if the horrors of warfare itself were not enough, Mr. MacKay also tells of the liberation of Dachau, the infamous German concentration camp. He relays what it was like to enter the camp and see the horrors of the German “Final Solution” and to live with the impact of that experience.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Mr. MacKay also speaks of his friends from Greenwich who died during the war: “One of my buddies I went to school with, Joe Bowowiec, went in the same Eighth Infantry Division that I went into, and he, unfortunately, was killed going over a hedgerow in Normandy. Several of the boys died. Adrian Atwood, who lived on Riversville Road, too, was on an aircraft carrier, and a Japanese kamikaze hit his aircraft carrier, and he was killed there. So we lost quite a few of them in this area. We lost Joe Balco; he was another one that got killed. I was lucky.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">James Mackay is part of what is known as the “Greatest Generation,” those who came through the Great Depression to fight Nazism and Japanese imperialism around the world. They fought the largest war in history, one that affected the entire planet. When the war was over, these soldiers came home and began rebuilding their lives. Mr. MacKay, like most of his generation, is humble when he speaks of his role in defeating the evil that was the Axis powers. That we have James M. MacKay’s story to read and to absorb and to use as a teaching tool is something that should not be overlooked. There are powerful and amazing stories of Greenwich citizens that are waiting to be discovered at the Greenwich Oral History Project. It is an admirable source of information for teaching our current generation of the everyday life, livelihood, and sacrifices made by those who came before us.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<i>James M. MacKay’s interview, #2794</i>, Life on Riversville Road<i>, can be read in the reference section of the Greenwich Library, first floor, or by contacting the Greenwich Library Oral History Project office, 203- 622-7495. <o:p></o:p></i></div>
oral history adminhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00231094595333269577noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2436776000619507499.post-92083954630906962312019-10-30T21:20:00.000-04:002020-01-15T15:20:36.351-05:00Two Indomitable Greenwich Women<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: "arial";">Today we honor two women of Greenwich, one a fearless aviator and WASP during World War II, the other a woman who served in local government at a time when few women did or could. The timing seems right for both since this month we will be commemorating Veterans Day and also since this month we go to the polls to elect city officials.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: "arial";">At the Greenwich Library Oral History Project, we are thankful to our volunteers who make the Project possible. And our blog writers are among our valued volunteers. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<i style="font-family: Cambria;"><span style="font-family: "arial";">This month we recognize two of our writers, <b>Joseph Campbell</b>, who has been contributing blog posts for more than a year, and new to our members <b>is Noor Rekhi </b>of Greenwich Academy. She contributes her first post this month as our Oral History Project student </span></i><span style="font-family: "arial";"><i>blogger.</i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial";"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial";"><i>We are grateful to them both. </i>Jean P. Moore, OHP blog editor</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<i style="font-family: Cambria;"><span style="font-family: "arial";"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeE04SXJ31HEtmql8tHfO2diy3eDHytuEjXAxVTAUwjdzVBl_uQ1TxPoIt2Ra9Sz_nbY15V010llVKx1dlXU8-w79bCxtuaK3zr5eJQNVktFB5l_2KUwc-fVf_dTWkoMh0tvmpPxYsCwlm/s1600/Noor+jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1419" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeE04SXJ31HEtmql8tHfO2diy3eDHytuEjXAxVTAUwjdzVBl_uQ1TxPoIt2Ra9Sz_nbY15V010llVKx1dlXU8-w79bCxtuaK3zr5eJQNVktFB5l_2KUwc-fVf_dTWkoMh0tvmpPxYsCwlm/s200/Noor+jpg.jpg" width="176" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Noor Rekhi, student blogger</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: "arial";"> </span></i><i><span style="font-family: "arial";">We begin with Joseph Campbell’s post: </span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLmfmLDI_aF_4ZdX8KJnmDSyc2jsqTSJsuZE7D8dwVKJ5rYd6zDQP3lgxT23SEFxAdGdMcCh9Ai8fW0hnSif3HZrIbjwpKq4d69Rv-AgNwDAxsV9CpZAHoXziYtLRhuEPbhNFxpU-G1soW/s1600/jDx2gKGA.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="178" data-original-width="178" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLmfmLDI_aF_4ZdX8KJnmDSyc2jsqTSJsuZE7D8dwVKJ5rYd6zDQP3lgxT23SEFxAdGdMcCh9Ai8fW0hnSif3HZrIbjwpKq4d69Rv-AgNwDAxsV9CpZAHoXziYtLRhuEPbhNFxpU-G1soW/s1600/jDx2gKGA.jpeg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gloria Whitton Heath in uniform,<br />
World War II</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in -0.5in 0.0001pt 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial";">Greenwich has had many famous residents throughout its history. One of these was a woman named <b>Gloria Whitton Heath</b>(1922-2018). Ms. Heath became a pioneer in women in aviation and a leader in post World War II international aviation safety. Interviewed in 2012 by volunteer <b>Janet T. Klion</b>, Ms. Heath’s story begins in college, the literal start of her journey in aviation.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in -0.5in 0.0001pt 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial"; text-align: center;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in -0.5in 0.0001pt 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial"; text-align: center;">The first steps of the journey were taken thanks to her brother, Royal Vale Heath, Jr., who had joined an aviation cadet program. He invited Ms. Heath to visit him at college for a flight with his instructor. She accepted—and became hooked on flying. When Ms. Heath went back to her school, she spoke with a pilot instructor about taking flying lessons. He told her to get together with her friends and buy a plane. He would then teach them to fly, so Ms. Heath and her friends did just that. They gathered the required contributions and assured the college they would not all die in a crash. They painted the plane in school colors to gain more support, and up they went learning to fly. Ms. Heath managed to earn her license and to graduate, no easy feat, she notes in her interview. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in -0.5in 0.0001pt 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in -0.5in 0.0001pt 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial";">Ms. Heath graduated in 1939. The war in Europe had begun, and on December 7, 1941, with the Japanese Empire attack on the US Naval Base at Pearl Harbor, America, too, was in it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in -0.5in 0.0001pt 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in -0.5in 0.0001pt 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial";">England, having been at war for several years, saw women taking on a larger role in the military and civilian sectors. This included training women pilots to ferry aircraft from the factories to the airfields, freeing up male pilots for combat. Nancy Harkness Love, whose husband was the head of the US Military Air Transport Service, got a group of American women pilots together prior to American involvement in the war, and they went to England to help with transporting aircraft. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in -0.5in 0.0001pt 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in -0.5in 0.0001pt 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial";">When America entered the war, the idea of women flying warplanes was floated past commander of the Army Air Corps, General Hap Arnold, who was skeptical of women flying. Eventually, though, under the guidance of Jacqueline Cochran, the Women Air Force Service Pilots (WASP) was formed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in -0.5in 0.0001pt 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in -0.5in 0.0001pt 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial";">In her interview Ms. Heath discusses how training for these new women pilots began in Texas, where they took the same air cadet training program that the men took under the same conditions with only slight modifications. Ms. Heath points out, for example, a higher standard required for women: If a male cadet failed a flight check, he could still go on to fly as a bombardier or as a navigator. A woman cadet, however, was not given the same opportunity. One failed flight check, and she was out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in -0.5in 0.0001pt 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in -0.5in 0.0001pt 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial";">Under such conditions, with little support from the men and initially even without official military uniforms, these amazing women began their air cadet training. They may have been WASPs, but they were not technically part of the military. They may have held second lieutenant bars and were thus saluted, but they could not salute back. Ms. Heath talks about how they winked in response when enlisted men saluted them. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in -0.5in 0.0001pt 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in -0.5in 0.0001pt 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial";">But without doubt, they were committed to the serious business at hand. During the war there were 1,100 WASP members serving the country. Thirty-five of them died in service. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in -0.5in 0.0001pt 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in -0.5in 0.0001pt 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial";">In her interview Ms. Heath goes into detail about the problems they faced. In addition to the discrimination, there were also professional rivalry, jealousy, and fear, fear that these trained women would take jobs away from their male counterparts vying for jobs in aviation after the war. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in -0.5in 0.0001pt 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in -0.5in 0.0001pt 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial";">Ms. Heath describes the battles that were fought in Congress and the War Department for recognition of their wartime efforts as aviators. She points out that after the war the US government sealed the records of the WASPs. In an effort to counter the cover-up, the WASPs formed their own association to protect their interests. She notes that one of their alumnae groups made films to get the word out that WASPs indeed had flown planes during the war for the Air Force. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in -0.5in 0.0001pt 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in -0.5in 0.0001pt 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial";">The WASPs were in existence for a little more than a year, but it was an important one for women in aviation. During that time they overcame many hurdles and became role models for the women who would follow in their footsteps. In time their achievements were duly recognized: Gloria Heath and the WASP fliers were awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor, but not until 2010.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial";"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial";">Ms. Heath’s contributions in aviation didn’t end with the disbanding of the WASPs. After the war, she became a leader in the field of aviation safety and search and rescue and wrote a manual on how to ditch an aircraft in water.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in -0.5in 0.0001pt 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in -0.5in 0.0001pt 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial";">Gloria Whitton Heath died in 2018, leaving a lasting legacy. Her contributions in the field of aviation and to the women who followed are significant. It is with pride that we honor her on Veterans Day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjooLDQO4oJPOnfvkaPJyUP91Fyuo7hK32ArR2GDP0-cXre3JG6iwpO9nJpYHaLJm5gXpee59dY3eOXLBB1ImSCLJs9sDzUrt-_8IgMmAtZl1xpCVL9mf4cwSTZmenMLgG9shxAK8nXAWEM/s1600/-pE4qMNx.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="178" data-original-width="178" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjooLDQO4oJPOnfvkaPJyUP91Fyuo7hK32ArR2GDP0-cXre3JG6iwpO9nJpYHaLJm5gXpee59dY3eOXLBB1ImSCLJs9sDzUrt-_8IgMmAtZl1xpCVL9mf4cwSTZmenMLgG9shxAK8nXAWEM/s320/-pE4qMNx.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gloria Whitton Heath</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in -0.5in 0.0001pt 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt;">[Gloria Whitton Heath’s interview,</span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt;"> </span><i style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt;">Pioneer in Women’s Aviation and Flight Safety</i><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt;">(2012), by Janet T. Klion, can be read on the first floor of the library in the reference area.]</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in -0.5in 0.0001pt 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: "arial";">Student blogger Noor Rekhi writes this month about <b>Florence Cross</b>, who worked for many years in Greenwich government as secretary and then as executive for the town’s selectmen. She was interviewed on two occasions in 1977 by OHP volunteer <b>Marian Phillips</b>.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: "arial";">Here is Noor Rekhi’s blog post based on these interviews:<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="normal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12pt;">Florence Cross started working as a secretary to the First Selectman in the 1950s and held that position for over two decades. During that time she built strong relationships with many first selectmen, learned valuable life lessons, and had a great impact on Greenwich. But any commentary on her years of public service would be incomplete without reference to her relationship with and admiration for Agnes Morley, another woman who was dedicated to Greenwich and who worked in government for many years to improve our town.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhzY4O3-Tcr5rlBSPS2wfhjWfNVxc9_YdXK4E6pmTFhuv7E5AVy0sODUUdd2rGkrnD6WoqKNlthTMcqfti8n0PgqeC5vGd4OvN7hjeXg_UXwlmnn8GrqDO5oUZkHki4XO0h9frjTOmn7we/s1600/CrossPortrait.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1163" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhzY4O3-Tcr5rlBSPS2wfhjWfNVxc9_YdXK4E6pmTFhuv7E5AVy0sODUUdd2rGkrnD6WoqKNlthTMcqfti8n0PgqeC5vGd4OvN7hjeXg_UXwlmnn8GrqDO5oUZkHki4XO0h9frjTOmn7we/s320/CrossPortrait.jpg" width="232" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Florence Cross</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="normal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Ms. Cross entered government at a time when not only the number of women in the public sector was sparse, but also during a period when it was less common for women to work. Nevertheless, Ms. Cross pursued a career, and after meeting Jack Gleason, Greenwich’s first chief administrator, she set her sights on town government. While originally she was offered a job in the Department of Parks and Recreation, Ms. Cross was determined to be a part of the Office of the First Selectman.</span></div>
<div class="normal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="normal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12pt;">It was in this office that she expanded her knowledge of politics and became well versed in town affairs. In fact, on two occasions she was the acting chief administrator of Greenwich. Her dedication and commitment to local government are impressive and inspiring; she often left the office at night, working long hours without overtime.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="normal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="normal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12pt;">One of the most prominent features of her interview is the friendship and fellowship she fostered during her tenure in the public sector. The closest of these relationships was with Agnes Morley, an engaged citizen and the Democratic selectman of Greenwich from 1965-1970. A Democrat in a Republican run administration, Ms. Morley already faced obstacles when entering public office, and being a female elected representative in a male-dominated era only exacerbated the doubts some held about her capabilities. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="normal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="normal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12pt;">Agnes Morley was frequently excluded from social gatherings thrown by her colleagues, who refused to take her or her policy plans seriously. Nevertheless, as Ms. Cross recollects, Agnes Morley persisted as a pivotal figure for the town and as a model citizen. A strong advocate for open communication and expression, she frequently took part in vigils promoting the causes she believed in. On many occasions, she stood as a role model for others to follow. Ms. Cross recollects how Ms. Morley insisted on going to the polls in a primary election, despite being sick, because she believed that everyone should take part in government. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="normal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="normal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12pt;">Ms. Cross includes another incident of Agnes Morley’s commendable character and integrity: While running for office, Ms. Morley and another man campaigned with an understanding that if they won, Morley would assume the position of the First Selectman, and he would be the other selectman. However, at a later time her running mate decided to backtrack on their agreement and attempted to take the position of First Selectman. He failed, but even so, most people would be appalled and angered if their running mate proved so untrustworthy, but not Agnes Morley. As Ms. Cross explains, “It never occurred to her to forgive him because she didn’t feel there was anything to forgive. It was a matter of understanding.” Ms. Cross herself indicates she would not have been so understanding had she faced a similar situation. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="normal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="normal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12pt;">In the interview, Ms. Cross expresses her wish that the legacy of her friend would be remembered, saying, “I suppose in 50 years, somebody is going to say, ‘Who is Agnes Morley?’ I would hope that there will be somebody around who will know and remember.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="normal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="normal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12pt;">Agnes Morley and Florence Cross stirred the status quo, enriched our town, and paved the path for more women in government. Thanks to the contributions of the Oral History Project, both their legacies of service and dedication can be preserved for our posterity. And as a result, they will both be remembered. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="normal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt;">[The Florence Cross interviews, later published as a book, <i>Twenty-One Years at Town Hall: Oral History Interview with Florence Cross</i>, 1978, by Marian Phillips, is available through the Greenwich Library, its branches, and the Perrot Memorial Library.] </span><span style="font-family: "arial";"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="normal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="normal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="normal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="normal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
oral history adminhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00231094595333269577noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2436776000619507499.post-61505536374806660892019-09-13T14:55:00.000-04:002019-09-13T14:55:10.624-04:00A Fateful Day on the Mianus River, Part Two<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua"; font-size: 12pt;">As summer draws to a close, we look back to two more interviews detailing the collapse of the Mianus River Bridge during the early morning of June 28, 1983. Earlier this summer, volunteer Joseph Campbell delved into two representative interviews from first-hand witnesses of events following the bridge collapse that fateful morning. </span></i><i><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua";"><o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua"; font-size: 12pt;">As noted, in 1992 the Greenwich Oral History Project published interviews about the event. The resulting book, </span></i><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua"; font-size: 12pt;">The Mianus River Bridge Collapse<i>, </i></span><i><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua"; font-size: 12pt;">is a compilation of twenty-two interviews. Oral History Project volunteers conducted seventeen interviews, and the National Transportation Safety Board investigators conducted the remaining five.</span></i><i><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua";"><o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua"; font-size: 12pt;">In this entry, Mr. Campbell reports on two additional interviews from the Oral History Project book. The first is an interview with Mary Oldham, resident of a home near the bridge who stayed close to the disaster all night. The other is with Craig Baggott, a reporter at the time for the </span></i><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua"; font-size: 12pt;">Hartford Courant<i> </i></span><i><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua"; font-size: 12pt;">who investigated the bridge inspection system then in place.</span></i><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua"; font-size: 12pt;"> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU5VDyd2nqzc4Fd-gFswAJ-nKAwxnzg7ygE8oj7CLzvV7xdyovdLwaS5NCAUBNWu0_nlKs-xUEG0ZIROblrOgUhPS_RaiEjZmVF9lYLPlbzdXmKJgLkQHd3-GJjiVBLUmMmyewge3eFPqS/s1600/Leslie+Yager+Mianus+Bridge+May+2017.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="513" data-original-width="771" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU5VDyd2nqzc4Fd-gFswAJ-nKAwxnzg7ygE8oj7CLzvV7xdyovdLwaS5NCAUBNWu0_nlKs-xUEG0ZIROblrOgUhPS_RaiEjZmVF9lYLPlbzdXmKJgLkQHd3-GJjiVBLUmMmyewge3eFPqS/s320/Leslie+Yager+Mianus+Bridge+May+2017.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Recent photo of the Mianus Bridge<br />Leslie Yager, Greenwich Free Press</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua"; font-size: 12pt;">June 28, 1983 was a normal day for Mary Oldham. She woke up, went to work, she and her husband came home and made dinner, relaxed and went to bed. She, like all her neighbors, were awakened after midnight to the sounds of the Mianus Bridge collapsing. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="normal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="normal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua"; font-size: 12pt;">Mary and other residents had grown used to the bridge and its various sounds. Typical groans and creaks were ignored, but when she and her neighbors heard odd noises, they would call the transportation department and let them know about the stranges sounds emanating from the structure. Prior to the collapse, there were odd noises, and there were phone calls. What was different, though, this time no one got back to them before the bridge fell. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="normal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="normal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua"; font-size: 12pt;">The sound of the collapsing bridge woke Mary and her husband, but initially they thought it was just very loud thunder. When Mary went to the window, she realized immediately that the bridge was gone. She could not see much of the damage, but that would soon change as darkness bcame morning light. Eventually the rescue teams showed up, the press not far behind.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="normal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="normal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua"; font-size: 12pt;">This was in a time without cell phones or internet. Many of the reporters were camped out in front of her house, and Mary allowed them to use her phone to call in their stories. She remembered, like most, the helicopters and the fire engines and rescue crews and then eventually the repair crews. It would be a long time before life would return to normal for Mary and her neighbors. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="normal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="normal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua"; font-size: 12pt;">While Mary was watching the collapse from her front yard, Craig Baggott was working for the <i>Hartford Courant </i>the night of the collapse. He remembers the night, not because he was on the scene but because the reports began coming in when he was working. Baggott explains in his interview how he did not report directly on the collapse itself. Rather, working on the projects desk at the <i>Courant</i>, he and others began looking into what led to the disaster. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="normal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="normal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua"; font-size: 12pt;">Baggott and the team at the <i>Courant </i>began poring over inspection reports of the bridge, and they made several discoveries. One revelation was that the bridge had not been inspected according to standards. After reviewing many reports, it became clear that inspecting a bridge like the Mianus involved a very hands-on process, physically looking at the bridge up close. It turned out that this was rarely done. Instead, the bridge had been inspected with men on the ground with binoculars. Worse, inspection reports had been falsified. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="normal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="normal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua"; font-size: 12pt;">Subsequent state reports revealed that many of Connecticut’s bridges were also in a state of disrepair. In the wake of the Mianus Bridge collapse, Connecticut eventually began funding inspections and repairs to the bridges to keep this tragedy from happening again, at least for a few years. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="normal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua"; font-size: 12pt;">Unfortunately, from a report in <i>Greenwich Time </i>several years ago, to name one such source, we learn that the state still grapples with faulty infrastructure, noting: “</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "Book Antiqua"; font-size: 12pt;">The poor condition of the state’s roads and bridges continues to be an issue. A national report earlier this year found that nearly four-fifths of major, locally and state-maintained roads are in poor or mediocre condition and eight percent of bridges are structurally deficient.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "Book Antiqua"; font-size: 12pt;">The tragedy that unfolded in Greenwich in 1983 should have sent an urgent message, and yet it appears that message has gone largely unheeded. Will it take another tragedy to alert yet another generation?</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua"; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="normal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua";">[<i>The Mianus River Bridge Collapse: June 28, 1983, An Oral History </i></span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua";">is available through the Greenwich Library, its branches, and the Perrot Memorial Library. Interview #2418, Mary Oldham, Greenwich resident, and #2471, Craig Baggott, a reporter for the <i>Hartford Courant </i>who investigated the bridge inspection system, can be found in the reference section of the first floor of the library.]<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="normal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
oral history adminhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00231094595333269577noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2436776000619507499.post-66794989641128716632019-06-19T14:17:00.001-04:002019-06-19T14:17:29.854-04:00A Fateful Day on the Mianus River<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua"; font-size: 12pt;">On June 28, 1983, many lives were forever changed. Shortly after midnight a section of the Mianus River Bridge on Interstate 95 in Greenwich, Connecticut collapsed into the river, leaving three people dead and three more injured. The event was a tragedy for the families involved and traumatic for the Greenwich neighborhoods of Cos Cob and Riverside. Residents soon found their lives in turmoil over the scope of the event, not the least of which was massive disruption as traffic was diverted from I-95 to these neighborhoods.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua"; font-size: 12pt;">In 1992 the Greenwich Oral History Project published interviews about the event. The resulting book, <i>The Mianus River Bridge Collapse,</i>is a compilation of twenty-two interviews. Oral History Project volunteers conducted seventeen interviews, and the National Transportation Safety Board investigators conducted the remaining five.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua"; font-size: 12pt;">Recently, volunteer Joseph Campbell delved into four representative interviews. Two, from first-hand witnesses of events following the collapse that fateful morning, are presented below. The other two will be the subject of a future blog post, culminating in an in depth look at the bridge inspection system at the time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua"; font-size: 12pt;">Today, when the nation’s infrastructure is cause for serious concern, the story of the Mianus River Bridge collapse is more relevant than ever. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua"; font-size: 12pt;">Here is volunteer Joe Campbell’s report on two eyewitness interviews. The first narrator is Werner G. Albrecht, Greenwich resident at the time, who was on the river that night. He heard the collapse and saw vehicles fall into the water. The other is Thomas Brown of the Connecticut State Police, on the scene above the collapse within minutes of the event. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua"; font-size: 14pt;">. . . .<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVw72zNyd_V91K2g2hyphenhyphen6ac8mbb3dDIsVQVCo6_xOaPZ2aI6ZKv74N_zIMVdFWi1cnQOuxSqEVvoanCy4Y81OcDVBhl_50k3dvHicAMnqkrOwgqiPG3vxubPrxJDyMnenK3UQHPQOAQKojL/s1600/mianus+bridge+collapse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="385" data-original-width="506" height="303" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVw72zNyd_V91K2g2hyphenhyphen6ac8mbb3dDIsVQVCo6_xOaPZ2aI6ZKv74N_zIMVdFWi1cnQOuxSqEVvoanCy4Y81OcDVBhl_50k3dvHicAMnqkrOwgqiPG3vxubPrxJDyMnenK3UQHPQOAQKojL/s400/mianus+bridge+collapse.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mianus River Bridge Collapse with trailer portion of fallen truck<br />Greenwich Library Oral History Project</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua"; font-size: 12pt;">According to Werner Albrecht, the night of June 28, 1983 was “balmy” with lots of moonlight creating a bright night sky. Mr. Albrecht had been on his boat on the Cos Cob side of the Mianus River near the I-95 bridge at the marina. He had been working on his boat. Later, still on his boat and reading into the night, he realized how late is was. He reached to turn off the light when he heard what he described as a deep roar followed by a loud thump and the screeching of tires. Looking out the window, he watched as car lights began pouring off the I-95 bridge and into the Mianus River. Grabbing his flashlight, he joined others along the water’s edge to begin searching for survivors. At the scene, he couldn’t believe his eyes: “that actually a piece of the roadway was missing, had gone down. There were no lights.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua"; font-size: 12pt;">Thomas Brown, a Connecticut state trooper, was patrolling in the Stamford-Greenwich area at the same time as Werner Albrecht was watching traffic fall from I-95. Soon Brown received a call over his radio about an accident on the highway. Upon arriving at the scene, he noticed that a section of the bridge over the Mianus River had collapsed, creating a large gap where the highway had been. Leaving his vehicle, he heard the pleas for help from the river below. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua"; font-size: 12pt;">This would be the start of a very long heartbreaking next few days for many people. In their interviews Werner Albrecht and Trooper Brown tell stories of the bridge collapse from two different locations and from two different points of view. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua"; font-size: 12pt;">Mr. Albrecht focuses on the reactions of residents along the river, telling of those who previously had complained about the strange noises coming from the bridge—for as long as a month before the collapse. He also describes ordinary people who at 1:30 in the morning came out to help those who had fallen into the river when the road gave way. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua"; font-size: 12pt;">State Trooper Brown describes the accident from above, initially detailing his arrival on the scene. But then he tells of the unnamed hero from Atlanta who with his wife was on a New England vacation and returning from a Yankee’s game, crossing the bridge after midnight. He was driving behind a truck when suddenly the vehicle’s taillights disappeared directly in front him. That was the last truck to fall into the river that night. The Atlanta man managed to stop his car just in time—before he too would have plunged into the river. And then a story of heroism ensues: This unknown driver left the safety of his car after seeing what lay ahead and began to stop traffic before others would have plunged into the waters below. As a result of his actions, the fatality rate would remain at the tragic loss of three lives that night, rather than rising higher. As State Trooper Brown points out, even at that time of night there was considerable traffic on the highway. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua"; font-size: 12pt;">While Mr. Albrecht discusses the rescue and recovery as well as the cleanup that took place in the days and weeks after, primarily from the perspective of the residents, Trooper Brown stays close to the details the havoc created as traffic was diverted. He describes the long backups caused by the collapse. Fortunately, highway crews managed to empty the destroyed section of the highway. Redirecting resulting traffic, however, created it own issues, causing immense congestion through the side streets of Greenwich until the section was repaired. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua"; font-size: 12pt;">Through all the sorrow for lives lost and through all the disruption, there are also heartening stories of people pulling together that night to help those in distress. The community spirit continued in the days ahead as well. Surrounding towns mobilized immediately. Stamford sent its dive team for underwater search and investigation. Other town agencies sent officers to help with traffic control. The National Guard was on the scene with helicopters.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua"; font-size: 12pt;">This was a tragedy that touched many lives, the effects continuing to this day. While the interviews were conducted throughout the 80s and into the early 90s, the events are not that far removed from the memories of those in the area who lived through it. While the subject matter is tragic, the interviews serve a purpose, to capture the voices and images of people who were there. Their words serve as warning and as respectful remembrance of those lost on the night of June 28, 1983. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua"; font-size: 12pt;">The Mianus River Bridge Collapse: June 28, 1983, An Oral History</span></i><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua"; font-size: 12pt;">is available through the Greenwich Library, its branches, and the Perrot Memorial Library. Interview #2395, Werner G. Albrecht, and #2402, Thomas Brown, Connecticut state trooper at the time of the bridge collapse, can be found in the reference section of the first floor of the library.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
oral history adminhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00231094595333269577noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2436776000619507499.post-87383515571539449552019-05-16T12:55:00.001-04:002019-05-16T12:55:36.208-04:00Clementine Lockwood Peterson, Her Life and Extraordinary Legacy<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "book antiqua";">At this time of year it is fitting that we honor Clementine Lockwood Peterson, born June 3, 1903. Her extraordinary legacy to the Greenwich Library is well worth remembering. The blog post reprinted below and taken from the Greenwich Library Oral Project’s book <i>The Lady in the Portrait </i>was first published September 24, 2013. The book, comprised of eleven interviews, tells the story of this remarkable woman whose multi-million dollar bequest to the library remains unparalleled.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "book antiqua";"> </span><span style="font-family: "book antiqua";"> </span></div>
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKmT4FG7p7z8OrdKbmt-Cw8aZhvhMJKaR5aSriyJVNKPknUc0NF_Cjb3EMuv28UK1jF5jSWHQPo4EXgDhiGeV-bIHUErbyy_MECg8_Y4DCavY0TGOfWmoOclSDsN6pKiW_RMNwe4gxDBOR/s1600/Clementine_Lockwood.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="607" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKmT4FG7p7z8OrdKbmt-Cw8aZhvhMJKaR5aSriyJVNKPknUc0NF_Cjb3EMuv28UK1jF5jSWHQPo4EXgDhiGeV-bIHUErbyy_MECg8_Y4DCavY0TGOfWmoOclSDsN6pKiW_RMNwe4gxDBOR/s320/Clementine_Lockwood.jpg" width="269" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "book antiqua";"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "book antiqua";">Below is the original 2013 post: <i><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "book antiqua";"><br /></span></i></div>
<div style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "book antiqua"; font-size: 12pt;">There are three portraits hanging in the Greenwich Library, two on the wall to the left of the main entrance and the third in the listening area of the music room on the second floor. Regular visitors will no doubt pass these portraits many times, perhaps glancing at them hurriedly, momentarily wondering why these almost “homey” images are on display in their town library. The two on the first floor are of Mr. and Mrs. J. Whitney Peterson, and the third is of their son, Jonathan. Their family story in many ways reads like a fairy tale of good fortune and graceful living, but it is also a tale of great sorrow. Ultimately though, it is a story of love and generosity. And the lady in the portrait on the first floor of the library, Clementine Lockwood Peterson, is the subject of the Oral History Project’s latest book fittingly entitled, </span><i><span style="font-family: "book antiqua,italic" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">The Lady in the Portrait</span></i><i><span style="font-family: "book antiqua"; font-size: 12pt;">. </span></i><i><span style="font-family: "book antiqua,italic" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Clementine Lockwood Peterson</span></i><span style="font-family: "book antiqua,italic" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihHKGYrY1g_YPicu4VurOYltI8R8XgSzWMP11Xk2_6DiHT0aUpWvi0K94nE8KlcY3J4p-cG_vfWBKIYwBa2pRh_dlHRTc2QB-lri9ydyd6-sOGBjLgRF6ROKzYyhmsZdZMhgd-w1T31kRk/s1600/Lady+in+the+Portrait.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="178" data-original-width="178" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihHKGYrY1g_YPicu4VurOYltI8R8XgSzWMP11Xk2_6DiHT0aUpWvi0K94nE8KlcY3J4p-cG_vfWBKIYwBa2pRh_dlHRTc2QB-lri9ydyd6-sOGBjLgRF6ROKzYyhmsZdZMhgd-w1T31kRk/s1600/Lady+in+the+Portrait.jpeg" /></a></div>
<div style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "book antiqua,italic" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "book antiqua"; font-size: 12pt;">Recently, the Oral History Project hosted a reception to launch the book about Mrs. Peterson’s, her life and her legacy to the Greenwich Library. The reception was not only in recognition of this accomplished and generous woman, but was also to honor those narrators who gave of their time to make this book a reality. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "book antiqua"; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "book antiqua"; font-size: 12pt;">Born June 3, 1903 in Greenwich, Clementine Lockwood Peterson spent her early life in Ridgefield, Connecticut. She attended prominent schools in the East before graduating from Bennett Junior College, a finishing school, in Millbrook, New York. Then, in 1925, she </span><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT9IQ1oYCfSH7b1ZUMR8AODhyphenhyphenrMvPMgZFXl6HZT5t8N1v0SekNxc_gNlDvY832Yv7ehqodT_u7kbrQFg3AzeubR3P5PX2IJWI32kOkpTjN8G5Jo_uKLSLhU9Tz7mJi0-_gJCIv_3cXN0l6/s1600/J.+Whitney+Peterson.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="178" data-original-width="178" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT9IQ1oYCfSH7b1ZUMR8AODhyphenhyphenrMvPMgZFXl6HZT5t8N1v0SekNxc_gNlDvY832Yv7ehqodT_u7kbrQFg3AzeubR3P5PX2IJWI32kOkpTjN8G5Jo_uKLSLhU9Tz7mJi0-_gJCIv_3cXN0l6/s1600/J.+Whitney+Peterson.jpeg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.800000190734863px; text-align: center;">J. Whitney Peterson</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "book antiqua"; font-size: 12pt;">married tobacco heir, J. Whitney Peterson, later settling into the Zaccheus Mead Estate in Greenwich where they lived for many years. Mr. Peterson later became president of the United States Tobacco Company. The couple had only one child, Jonathan, of the portrait on the second floor, who was known as Jay.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "book antiqua"; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "book antiqua"; font-size: 12pt;">Mrs. Peterson, who in many ways led a charmed life, came to know tragedy and heartbreak. Jay died in an automobile accident in 1957 at the age of twenty-three and then, just two years later, her husband died. In 1992, after her death on the eleventh of April of that year, to honor her husband and son, Clementine Lockwood Peterson, through her attorneys, left a bequest of $25 million to the Greenwich Library. Her wish was for the funds to be distributed by trustees through a foundation established in her will. The Clementine Lockwood Peterson Foundation was created primarily to benefit two main areas in the library, business and music, in honor of her husband who had led one of the nation’s largest companies and in honor of their son whose great passion had been music. </span></div>
<div style="margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "book antiqua";"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "book antiqua"; font-size: 12pt;"></span><span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: x-small;"><o:p></o:p></span>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidOjkP1cOgRnArSg-fwypkasEVu5t-emgHQk2hWxDm0enKyQQvb2SL8gOVYcGnU4RJSpmhRrScSA1I-Q2SwYTXBZqTJHQWZRRwom96pjYykdhE_C5NPJXNXtJqllShkuy5tE4EF9xqSu1p/s1600/Jonathan+Peterson.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="178" data-original-width="178" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidOjkP1cOgRnArSg-fwypkasEVu5t-emgHQk2hWxDm0enKyQQvb2SL8gOVYcGnU4RJSpmhRrScSA1I-Q2SwYTXBZqTJHQWZRRwom96pjYykdhE_C5NPJXNXtJqllShkuy5tE4EF9xqSu1p/s1600/Jonathan+Peterson.jpeg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.800000190734863px; text-align: center;">Jonathan "Jay" Peterson</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "book antiqua"; font-size: 12pt;">The bequest remains the largest ever made to a local library in the United States.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "book antiqua"; font-size: 12pt;"><br />After much deliberation and with deep commitment to honor the terms of the bequest, the Peterson Wing, which added 32,000 square feet to the library and would house, among other subjects, the library’s business and music collections, officially opened its doors on June 12, 1999.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "book antiqua"; font-size: 12pt;">Although she had been born in Greenwich and had spent many years in town, Mrs. Peterson was not a well-known presence at the library. In fact, when news of the bequest was announced, few among the library trustees knew who she was. Many of the narrators in the interviews that make up the book who did know her comment on her penchant for privacy, but she was at the same time an active member of the community. In fact, what emerges from the interviews is a woman with many sides. At various times during her years in Greenwich, she was an active volunteer in local organizations. She was an avid dog breeder and owner of show dogs, literally having written the book on Keeshonds, her favorite breed. In addition to writing, she was a skilled sculptor of animals, primarily of birds and dogs. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "book antiqua"; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "book antiqua"; font-size: 12pt;">In her personal life, she was the formal Mrs. Peterson, the informal Mrs. Pete, and the familiar Auntie Clem. There is the proper, businesslike mistress of a large estate and the fun-loving hostess with a playful sense of humor. But most poignantly perhaps, there is the observant and caring benefactor who sees need and intervenes to provide help. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "book antiqua"; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "book antiqua"; font-size: 12pt;">But the light must have gone out of the life of this accomplished and generous woman when she lost in quick succession her son and her husband. A year after her husband’s death, she sold the estate. She then lived for many years in a house on Taconic Road. Finally, she moved to a retirement home, Crosslands, in Kennett Square, Pennsylvania where she died in 1992, but not before she meticulously set up one last act of incredible generosity. And the town of Greenwich will forever be the beneficiary of her largess. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "book antiqua"; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "book antiqua,italic" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">The Lady in the Portrait </span><span style="font-family: "book antiqua"; font-size: 12pt;">is a compendium of eleven interviews. They include interviews with three trustees of the Peterson Foundation, past members of the board of trustees of the Greenwich Library and of the Friends of Greenwich Library. Also included are interviews of former employees of the library and an interview with a daughter of a family who were employees of the Petersons at their Greenwich estate. The book is divided into three sections: “The Lady,” “The Bequest,” and “The Legacy.” </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "book antiqua"; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "book antiqua,italic" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">The Lady in the Portrait </span></i><span style="font-family: "book antiqua"; font-size: 12pt;">is available through the Oral History Project office and can be purchased for $18. </span><span style="font-family: "book antiqua"; font-size: 16px;">Call the project office at 203.622.7945 for further information. The book </span><span style="font-family: "book antiqua"; font-size: 12pt;">is also part of the library’s circulating collection. </span><br />
<div style="font-size: 10pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<br /></div>
</div>
oral history adminhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00231094595333269577noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2436776000619507499.post-43255954451986670702019-04-03T14:49:00.001-04:002019-04-04T12:26:05.526-04:00"Aunt Mary" of the Bush Family: Her life, the Bushes, and Her Nephew, President George H.W. Bush<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14pt;">The following is contributed by Greenwich Library Oral History Project volunteer Joseph Campbell.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14pt;">This month we are taking a look at the interview of another member of the Bush family, Mary Carter Walker. Mary was married to George H. Walker, Jr., <table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsTlwLXwSGrbGFe2sXL0kEL_WylwT8S_qORz07T7N6fltGQCZgb_h3MV2F_LJ3jAOXi-bGrEti-H3Re12fwD9UK4Emq5K6wqXDS-iCRXdCx2jQfWHy9c52PlSy2zgaa5ca2Rq9QtXxp7rB/s1600/George_Herbert_Walker_Jr.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="291" data-original-width="156" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsTlwLXwSGrbGFe2sXL0kEL_WylwT8S_qORz07T7N6fltGQCZgb_h3MV2F_LJ3jAOXi-bGrEti-H3Re12fwD9UK4Emq5K6wqXDS-iCRXdCx2jQfWHy9c52PlSy2zgaa5ca2Rq9QtXxp7rB/s1600/George_Herbert_Walker_Jr.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">George H. Walker, Jr.<br />
Photo: Wikipedia</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14pt; text-align: center;">brother of Dorothy Walker Bush, who was the mother of President George H.W. Bush.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14pt; text-align: center;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14pt; text-align: center;">It’s a long and complicated family tree, but suffice it to say, Mary Carter Walker was affectionately known in the Bush family as “Aunt Mary.” And that is who she was.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14pt;">This interview was completed in 1991 by Greenwich Library Oral History Project volunteer Esther H. Smith.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14pt;">Mary was born in St. Louis in 1905 and first met her future husband there when they were children. As she describes it, the meeting was not love at first sight. In fact it was not until later when they were in Maine as teenagers that things began to change. His mother came home one day and said, “I met the perfect girl for you today.” When he asked whom that might be, she replied, “Mary Carter,” to which he responded, “Oh Ma.” In spite of this rather inauspicious beginning, they met again soon thereafter at a dance, and their romance blossomed, mother vindicated.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14pt;">After they married, they moved to Greenwich when her husband's father became the head of his brokerage firm, G.H Walker and Company. Prior to Greenwich, they lived for a short while on Long Island. Mary claims they eventually moved to Greenwich because of the Bush family. They built their own home in town and at the time of the interview had lived there for 55 years.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14pt;">Mary also reminisces about their “baseball years.” Her husband was an owner of the Mets. While Mary initially disliked baseball, she eventually was introduced to the players and became a huge fan, even going on several road trips with them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14pt;">Mary also shares insights about living in Kennebunkport in Maine, remembering the future president when he was a child. She, as others have noted, mentions George Bush’s kindness toward others, especially toward his brother for whom he had great affection. She remembers fondly how the Bush brothers were close with their sister Nancy as well and how they played together, frequently getting into mischief. <table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-WBEoXxvwS8JKeknINCah0bT2oXY2OiMsEgoL5P7H8f9gP45ieMo-r3Pz6rYkNcP2Vk4QqkstiRPwtP9yHXMuLbHYU0ePqpfHeSuprmNNb1lHd3k8A6tR-TqXVjKXDzCGkFGBreFS8ZdS/s1600/lossy-page1-220px-Vice_President_Bush_picnics_on_the_lawn_of_his_Kennebunkport_home_with_his_family_-_NARA_-_186370.tif.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="150" data-original-width="220" height="217" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-WBEoXxvwS8JKeknINCah0bT2oXY2OiMsEgoL5P7H8f9gP45ieMo-r3Pz6rYkNcP2Vk4QqkstiRPwtP9yHXMuLbHYU0ePqpfHeSuprmNNb1lHd3k8A6tR-TqXVjKXDzCGkFGBreFS8ZdS/s320/lossy-page1-220px-Vice_President_Bush_picnics_on_the_lawn_of_his_Kennebunkport_home_with_his_family_-_NARA_-_186370.tif.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bush Family Picnic<br />
Photo: Wikipedia</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14pt;">In addition, she reminisces about the fabled Bush family athleticism, including that of George Bush’s mother, claiming it was Dorothy who spurred the boys’ interest in athletics. Mary also goes into George Bush’s years at Andover and then into his World War II experiences in the Navy, noting his becoming, at the time, the youngest Naval Aviator. She also recounts how nervous the family was when George was shot down and presumed to be missing—and how relieved they were to learn he had been rescued.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14pt;">After coming came back from the war, the future president went to Yale. When Mary is asked about his marriage, she goes into detail about George and Barbara having been in love during the war. Their romance went back to their having first met when they were very young. Mary remembers their meeting at a dance in Rye, New York, but history has it they met at the Greenwich Country Club. She recounts how they were both very athletic, Barbara, a tomboy, and a good match for the handsome athlete, George. The young family flourished, but those early years were marred, tragically, by the loss of the their young daughter Robin to leukemia.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14pt;">In addition to retelling family stories, Mary shares insights into the Bush family move to Texas to become involved in the oil business; she discusses President George H.W. Bush’s service at the United Nations and his political losses before winning the presidency. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14pt;">But what also makes the interview so engaging are Mary Walker’s insights into the more mundane problems coming with fame, such as the neighbors at Walker Point in Kennebunkport being both proud to have a president in their midst but also upset because of all the commotion and traffic caused by his visits. <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxJnVAo7H2pSfuGI8BjemiYddRWvFsidhawA6qeBd0J59ZOaEYxKslIwSqGDIteix7J1cnURZlDNo63SCf8CZFveuPYEjCgjXQJiUUxF56ESL_XkJAgsFWHevFnvFEX5KFY0vKo1oQLpSi/s1600/220px-Bushhaus1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="165" data-original-width="220" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxJnVAo7H2pSfuGI8BjemiYddRWvFsidhawA6qeBd0J59ZOaEYxKslIwSqGDIteix7J1cnURZlDNo63SCf8CZFveuPYEjCgjXQJiUUxF56ESL_XkJAgsFWHevFnvFEX5KFY0vKo1oQLpSi/s320/220px-Bushhaus1.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bush Compound, Kennebunkport, Maine<br />
Photo: Wikipedia</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14pt;">Much of the interview deals with the houses and family in Kennebunkport and about their lives there. All the details in this interview help to put the finishing touches on a portrait of a close and loving family, imbued with a deep sense of social responsibility to serve the country that had treated them so well.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14pt;">Thanks to this interview, the accomplishments and the love inherent in this family are not lost to us.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOGKI6-IWzTRO7z_LTujMTyVl8AwBYV3gdApSl_S-Jgp_txots965Ylk2aIyLmQvR7UlegwYcGgPxHU3u7tqdX4qILGNm7B445bQhPRBmmDg8Jfg__uoi77m3i33ZQKYiZmhWHqi-1t2J6/s1600/4822873_120318-cc-ap-bush-family-photo-img.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1280" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOGKI6-IWzTRO7z_LTujMTyVl8AwBYV3gdApSl_S-Jgp_txots965Ylk2aIyLmQvR7UlegwYcGgPxHU3u7tqdX4qILGNm7B445bQhPRBmmDg8Jfg__uoi77m3i33ZQKYiZmhWHqi-1t2J6/s400/4822873_120318-cc-ap-bush-family-photo-img.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bush Family<br />
Photo released by the White House</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 21.466665267944336px;">The Oral History Project interview “George Bush,” April 26,1991, can be found in the local history reference area on the first floor of the library and in the OHP office.</span></i><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 21.466665267944336px;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14pt;"></span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td class="tr-caption"><div style="text-align: left;">
<br class="Apple-interchange-newline" /></div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14pt;"><br /><br /><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
oral history adminhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00231094595333269577noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2436776000619507499.post-70633907338304078282019-03-05T20:51:00.003-05:002019-03-06T22:16:52.870-05:00The Bush Family of Greenwich Remembered<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<i><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 21.466665267944336px;">George Herbert Walker Bush<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>(June 12, 1924 – November 30, 2018), the 41st<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>President of the United States<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>from 1989 to 1993, was once a resident of Greenwich. His father and mother, Prescott Sheldon Bush and Dorothy Walker Bush, </span></i><i><span style="background-color: white; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 21.466665267944336px;">moved to Greenwich in 1924, the year George Herbert Walker was born. Prescott Bush Sr. lived here until he died in 1972. Once moderator of the Greenwich Representative Town Meeting, the elder Bush was buried at Putnam Cemetery in Greenwich. </span></i><i><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 21.466665267944336px;">We at the Greenwich Library Oral History Project are fortunate enough to have several interviews with members of the Bush family, one, conducted in 1991(by OHP volunteer Esther H. Smith), is with Mary Walker, aunt to the Bush children, and the other, conducted in 1992 (by OHP volunteer Marian Phillips), is with Prescott Sheldon Jr., the eldest of the Bush children, brother to one former United States president and uncle to another. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<i><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 21.466665267944336px;">This interview summation is by Oral History Project volunteer Joseph Campbell</span></i><i><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 21.466665267944336px;">. We begin with the Marian Phillips interview of Prescott Sheldon Jr., “Political Activity in the Bush Family.” </span></i><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 21.466665267944336px;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14pt;">The Bush family loomed large in Connecticut and in Greenwich. They lived here in town, conducted business here, and also famously became involved in local, state, and national politics while here. In January and February of 1992, Prescott Bush Sr., the elder brother of former President George H.W. Bush and the uncle to George W. Bush, sat down for an interview with Greenwich Oral History Project volunteer Marian Phillips. In two parts, the interview is a fascinating look into the Bush family, who we often hear about but rarely get to see up close. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCUDUNofqVU2u8VJTnDwdbMx1jfNU2hOFUVWc_J_iAZMDk0mSfbxLcjih2Mgw-wCGAhrhqcEOrd3qk1mYYUDSUhG_KlSD6Khdld1olLIhpj-4_t5stpRmKjbRCzfWGQZpXD_CEtZYIzwM0/s1600/Bush+family.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="731" data-original-width="920" height="254" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCUDUNofqVU2u8VJTnDwdbMx1jfNU2hOFUVWc_J_iAZMDk0mSfbxLcjih2Mgw-wCGAhrhqcEOrd3qk1mYYUDSUhG_KlSD6Khdld1olLIhpj-4_t5stpRmKjbRCzfWGQZpXD_CEtZYIzwM0/s320/Bush+family.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bush Family portrait<br />
George H.W. Bush, second from right. Prescott S. Bush Sr., to his right<br />
photo: Greenwich Oral History Project files</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14pt;">The interview is wide-ranging, covering Prescott Bush Jr.’s and the family’s involvement in politics. His own political career in Connecticut was brief, and he retired as an insurance executive before his death in 2010 at 87. In the interview, he tells about his father, Prescott Sr., a “Wonderful guy with a tremendous sense of humor,” a trait that appears to have filtered down to his children. He was a man who always made sure the family, though wealthy, managed to stay grounded in reality. He taught his children that though they had a comfortable life and even a life of privilege, they also had a duty to give back and look out for those who were less fortunate. This teaching may have motivated George H.W. Bush to leave school to join the Navy, where he become the youngest pilot during World War II. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14pt;">Bush Sr. was apparently well aware of the role good fortune played in their family’s circumstances. They had money because they worked hard, yes, but the elder Bush impressed upon the family the importance of not taking good fortune for granted.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1RxUwuz3GB-ONlxoU2TJMf0GNwmbJxiB3Ab1x624cgfx06QJTxTKGgRhhE3DOb0Dh5JeOTJ_JVmiQKtHxei9H1FEgVcKMlPSzD5JlM_5opWjJlF4Hs77nCvHIBS14D5Crj7Bvrue4hOTm/s1600/PrescottBush.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="225" data-original-width="164" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1RxUwuz3GB-ONlxoU2TJMf0GNwmbJxiB3Ab1x624cgfx06QJTxTKGgRhhE3DOb0Dh5JeOTJ_JVmiQKtHxei9H1FEgVcKMlPSzD5JlM_5opWjJlF4Hs77nCvHIBS14D5Crj7Bvrue4hOTm/s1600/PrescottBush.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Prescott S. Bush Sr.<br />
Photo: Wiki Commons</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14pt;">Another significant point: In the interview, Bush Jr. addresses the issue of the family’s pursuing politics and makes it clear that the elder Bush never pushed politics—or any career for that matter. (Prescott Bush Sr. was himself a United States senator, representing Connecticut, for almost ten years.) According to his son, not only did he encourage his children to make their own career decisions, he also told them he was not going to offer them advice, unless asked. Prescott Bush Jr. paints a warm and glowing portrait of the Bush family, leaving the reader to conclude that this must have been a wonderful family in which to grow up. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="_gjdgxs"></a><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14pt;">Bush Jr. spends ample time on his family’s foray into politics and what that was like for his father and the family. Politics, it seems, provided for them a way to serve, to work to help others. There is discussion about the view of the family as patrician. Bush Jr. makes it clear that this was a distinction the family did not want. They worked hard to keep that perception out of the minds of the electorate. Bush Jr. also discusses in detail his brother George H.W. Bush’s decision to seek the presidency and the role his family played in his final determination to run. In this and in other areas, the reader senses the importance of family. Prescott Bush Jr. describes the famous BBQs, the games of horseshoes, and the sense of togetherness that defined the family. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="_l9hrqnoduzru"></a><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14pt;">Throughout, Prescott Bush Jr. impresses upon the reader the family’s love of country. The elder Bush, the son says, instilled in the family the belief that, rich or poor, we are all Americans. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14pt;">Food for thought then and now.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 21.466665267944336px;">The Oral History Project interview, “Political Activity in the Bush Family,” January and February 1992, can be found in the local history reference area on the first floor of the library and in the OHP office on the lower level of the library.</span></i><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 21.466665267944336px;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 16.866666793823242px; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
oral history adminhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00231094595333269577noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2436776000619507499.post-60504161173771837502019-02-04T15:53:00.001-05:002019-02-04T15:53:41.897-05:00<span style="font-family: "arial";"><i>Two years ago we ran this post on an interview narrated by Alver W. Napper. We are reposting it to pay tribute to Mr. Napper, who contributed to and served his community for many years. </i></span><br />
<div>
<span style="font-family: "arial";"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial";">This month as we commemorate Black History Month, we turn our attention to an interview narrated by longtime Greenwich resident, </span><b style="font-family: arial;">Alver W. Napper,</b><span style="font-family: "arial";"> who was a member of the Board of Directors of the Lee Haven Beach Club. In operation from 1949 until 1952, the club was located on Shore Island, a small spit of land less than an acre large, off the coast of Byram, Connecticut. The Beach Club, a revolutionary space not without controversy, was established as a recreational club for professional Blacks from the area surrounding Greenwich.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial";"></span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTepd5pVsZsDUFVUeUPtU7okbMwWE6eB9asNOnsFrEtQd-qqQoX7JKEnuxaKxFebKQ3lh6tb4WA82RdtFWSLEBtpvoXQVjU27_xgAlSrqFCKl5peYuy_tZ3FMPTQ4FijmCVRjTDYbLRvBm/s1600/637+-+NAPPER+-+photos+%2528dragged%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTepd5pVsZsDUFVUeUPtU7okbMwWE6eB9asNOnsFrEtQd-qqQoX7JKEnuxaKxFebKQ3lh6tb4WA82RdtFWSLEBtpvoXQVjU27_xgAlSrqFCKl5peYuy_tZ3FMPTQ4FijmCVRjTDYbLRvBm/s320/637+-+NAPPER+-+photos+%2528dragged%2529.jpg" width="231" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.800000190734863px;"><span style="font-size: small; text-align: start;"><i>“I like to think of this island, of this club, as being one of the milestones in the evolution of the recreational aspirations of the Black people of this area.” </i>Alver W. Napper, June 6, 2010-February 7, 2002</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial";">The following, which details the club’s short duration, is from a 1975 Oral History Project interview conducted by volunteer <b>R.W. Howell.</b> <b>Olivia Luntz</b>, a Greenwich High School Senior and Oral History Project guest blogger, prepared this post.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial";"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white;">
<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 12pt;">Alver Napper <span style="color: #333333;">was director of the Crispus Attucks Center and an active member of the NAACP in Greenwich. In the Lee Haven Beach Club interview, he notes </span>that in the 1930s and 1940s Blacks could not belong to the YMCA, YWCA, or other clubs, so they had to create their own space. “Recreation for Blacks was confined principally to the church,” he says. There were clubs and groups that met in private homes, but there were no public spaces available to Blacks to rent.</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white;">
<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white;">
<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 12pt;">In order to hold dances, for example, organizers had to look outside Greenwich. And the need for such space in town was lost on many people. Napper tells the story of a meeting held to discuss the topic. As he recalls, one woman present “spoke up in the meeting and said that she didn’t see why Blacks needed recreation; she thought that when they had their Thursday off from work, or their Sunday off, the proper thing for them to do was to go home and rest so that they would be more efficient for work the next day.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white;">
<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white;">
<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 12pt;">This may leave us stunned today, but in the early days, the town’s Black organizers were undeterred.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white;">
<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white;">
<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 12pt;">Napper points out that 1939 and 1940 were the first years in which the need for recreational space for Black citizens became recognized. “They organized some singing and some open-air theatrical kind of things…entertainment.” Next, the basement of the Bethel African Methodist Episcopal Church on Lake Avenue was turned into a Black community center. Finally, arrangements were made to acquire the old Boys’ Club building, which was then at 33 Railroad Avenue, after the Boys’ Club moved into a new building. The Boys’ Club had never before rented their facilities for Black functions because “they were always afraid that we would have people whom we could not depend upon to observe the rules and regulations and thereby would…ruin the reputation.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white;">
<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white;">
<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 12pt;">The most important step toward having a space for Blacks in Greenwich to come together, however, was the creation of the Lee Haven Beach Club. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white;">
<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial";">The Lee Haven Beach Club was founded after a Black real estate broker from New York, Mr. J. Opie Hagans, came across the island and purchased it. The island had previously been used during prohibition as a bootlegger club, called the Pieces of Eight. Hagans was known for buying run-down properties, repairing them, and then reselling them. However, the Lee Haven Beach Club faced problems before it even opened its doors. According to Napper, “as soon as news got out that Blacks had bought the island, then the real old racist Greenwich spirit began to bubble over.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial";">The club was first challenged by zoning laws that prohibited new clubs being organized unless they were approved by Greenwich zoning. However, since the Pieces of Eight club had existed on the island beforehand, the challenge was moot. Next, once the club got started, there was a challenge of the club’s right to have a rope ferry that would allow people to access the island. The Lee Haven club was once again able to dodge that setback as the Pieces of Eight club had been granted a permit for a rope ferry.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<o:p></o:p><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial";">But the club’s connection to the Pieces of Eight club also created problems. “During the time of the Pieces of Eight club there were people getting drunk, creating disturbances on the island, and annoying everybody around the neighborhood….The neighbors claimed that that was their main reason for trying to prevent this new club from starting.” Therefore it was important that during its existence the Lee Haven Beach Club was very quietly operated.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial";">The greatest challenge the club had to face, Napper says, was the fight to obtain a liquor license. “Some of the people who lived around that area, people of means, paid several very prominent attorneys to block our efforts to secure a liquor license. This went on for several years until as Napper comments, they “were able to hire someone who had political clout.” Only then did they obtain the license—and not until the club paid a high price, spent to convince that lawyer to represent them. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial";">And the liquor license was not the only problem the Club faced. Napper adds that, “we had hearings—town hall packed hearings with the people who objected—and they had all of their lawyers there. They objected to the permittee, they objected on the basis that there were nuisances going to be created in the neighborhood, and so forth—all kinds of objections.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial";">In spite of the controversy, the club prevailed and was successful—for a time.<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgetPM3yDoLlLVjPuRQtFyN9B_1Egv4xbSr9tVDtz7XrxGigGc40ShjXTh-CN5Z9RWARVIqWGit4laO1-tvIfkGYmYXTpR4fmT2ifndLYGGpE376fFoZXaaCr_3Rwf5zaJ1eWSemat1rIoF/s1600/Shore+39.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgetPM3yDoLlLVjPuRQtFyN9B_1Egv4xbSr9tVDtz7XrxGigGc40ShjXTh-CN5Z9RWARVIqWGit4laO1-tvIfkGYmYXTpR4fmT2ifndLYGGpE376fFoZXaaCr_3Rwf5zaJ1eWSemat1rIoF/s320/Shore+39.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.800000190734863px;">Shore Island, <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12px; text-align: start;">Photographer: Didier Ciambra, </span><a href="http://www.ciambraphotography.com/" style="font-size: 12px; text-align: start;">www.ciambraphotography.com</a></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial";">The main clubhouse contained the bar and the restaurant, and four additional houses provided fifty to sixty rooms that could be rented out. The island also had “a very beautiful locker room, and we had a beach—a beautiful beach.” Finally, the island also had a dock where members would bring their boats. The club’s daytime activities included enjoying the beach, boating and playing games. Unlike the Pieces of Eight club, the Lee Haven Beach Club was more family-oriented. Napper notes that members from New York would “come down and rent several rooms and bring their families down for a week or two.” During the evenings there were dances and parties on the lawn and private parties in guests’ rooms. There was a jukebox “which we used to use every night,” says Napper. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial";">However, all the effort that went into creating the Lee Haven Beach Club couldn’t prevent its eventual demise. Napper recalls that the club lasted for four summers, those of 1949-1952. Dissension began to grow within the club because of the differing opinions among members about whom the club should be open to. Napper explains that the club was originally created as a space for professional Blacks from New York, Philadelphia, Washington, and other metropolitan areas to gather. “The general aim [was] to try and make the membership predominantly professional Black people.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial";">When the club first started there were several hundred members, who mostly lived in New York and Washington. It soon became apparent that a club strictly limited to professionals could not earn enough revenue to stay open. Some members wanted the club to admit anybody who could pay their membership dues. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial";">“We had our Annual Meeting,” says Napper, “and the professional group had held an affair in New York City to raise money to make up the deficit for the club. When they came out, they wanted to change the constitution of the club so that you had to be professionals. There was a big floor debate about that, and they were out-voted by the people who wanted to keep it open to everybody. Then that group (the professionals) said that since you’re going to do that, you’re not going to get this money, which they raised in order to save the club. So that was the parting of ways then. Next season was an extremely lean season with most of these professionals staying away, and thereafter the club rapidly went down.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial";">After that summer there was a hurricane that severely damaged the buildings on the island, and the captain/caretaker who lived on the island during the winter passed away. The island was eventually sold and remained deserted. “It’s “gone back to nature now,” Napper sadly notes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial";">Despite the demise of the Lee Haven Beach Club, Alver W. Napper’s interview is a compelling reminder of the contributions Greenwich’s Black residents have made to our rich and fascinating history. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "arial";">“The Lee Haven Beach Club,” 1975, is available through the Greenwich Oral History Project office located on the lower level of the library or on the first floor in the library’s reference section. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial";">A summary of the Greenwich Oral History Project interviews commemorating Black History Month can be found here: </span><a href="http://www.glohistory.org/uploads/2/5/3/1/25311459/2013_02_13.pdf"><span style="font-family: "arial";">http://www.glohistory.org/uploads/2/5/3/1/25311459/2013_02_13.pdf</span></a><span style="font-family: "arial";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial";"></span><br />
<div style="font-family: -webkit-standard;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: -webkit-standard;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: -webkit-standard; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;">
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<br /></div>
</div>
</div>
oral history adminhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00231094595333269577noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2436776000619507499.post-36011732000219009982018-12-21T16:29:00.001-05:002018-12-21T16:29:40.157-05:00The Spragues of Steamboat Road<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">With this interview, by Oral History Project volunteer, Joseph Campbell, we reach once again into our archives for a narrative taking us back to the early 1900s. </span></i><i><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">In 1976, Betsy Cullen interviewed William and Francis Sprague, who shared what it was like living in Greenwich at the turn of the century.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">A married couple, born within a year of each other, who years later died within months of each other*, the Spragues tell of growing up and living in Greenwich and of residing on Steamboat Road.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">This is their story</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">Many times when we read the histories of former residents of Greenwich, their memories are of happy times growing up simply or during major events, such as World War II. The focus is usually on the positive. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGaoFrNN6avMcfNafHwtt-kmKxqZ6bklWpztmL9iNA0RrtkLv3LUUHIKqtAFtv_tN-0_nhEfLRUdPBtjTA5oU_owScGAIH7s-Ju8B2s0YkXjSNrLvz2mHLHWfDd7slTA6XiitMzUrTgLSK/s1600/PostcardIndianHarborGreenwichCTcirca1907to1915.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="347" data-original-width="541" height="205" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGaoFrNN6avMcfNafHwtt-kmKxqZ6bklWpztmL9iNA0RrtkLv3LUUHIKqtAFtv_tN-0_nhEfLRUdPBtjTA5oU_owScGAIH7s-Ju8B2s0YkXjSNrLvz2mHLHWfDd7slTA6XiitMzUrTgLSK/s320/PostcardIndianHarborGreenwichCTcirca1907to1915.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<o:p></o:p><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">William and Francis Sprague grew up in Greenwich in the early 1900s, before and after the First World War. Their reflections include hardships endured as well as good times enjoyed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">For the Spragues, growing up near or on the water on Steamboat Road (Mrs. Sprague lived there as a child; the couple moved back when they married), some of the good times included swimming in the bathing suits “God gave them.” They also recalled how Standard Oil had large oil holding tanks along the waterfront and how when they fished, they would have to move on to Greenwich Cove where there was less trash in the water and where the fishing was better. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">They tell of the winter of 1917 when the salt water froze up to 20 inches thick and prevented the barges from bringing in coal. Horses and sleds were used to go across the ice to get the coal in. They recount how they fished for eel by chopping holes in the thick ice and then using a long spear to stab them. We are told of the times when they had to burn wood before they had coal, and this was long before they had electricity in their homes. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvMOriA45UG-thXi9Z-i40YM-2_qGhwXoIZ8nsaSIhcSvvfCUXT4Uhblt6MRWxczXbMW9_xRppVNtImKHqtGfz1HKXcSF-15eTiSXWKVmooO7lujTblMeo-wMZb8Km9_5-8ARjZV3_FHcG/s1600/PostcardBelleHavenGreenwichCT1906.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="394" data-original-width="602" height="209" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvMOriA45UG-thXi9Z-i40YM-2_qGhwXoIZ8nsaSIhcSvvfCUXT4Uhblt6MRWxczXbMW9_xRppVNtImKHqtGfz1HKXcSF-15eTiSXWKVmooO7lujTblMeo-wMZb8Km9_5-8ARjZV3_FHcG/s320/PostcardBelleHavenGreenwichCT1906.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<o:p></o:p><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">Sometimes the snow was so deep they had to dig their way out of the house to go for food, doing the best they could. There were no indoor toilets, and once they did get running water, the pipes froze all the time. In the morning they had to crawl under the house and warm up the pipes with boiling water to get it flowing again. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">Francis recalls working at the old Greenwich Hospital on Milbank Street. She worked in the kitchen with her sister when Francis was 12 years old. She worked 13-hour days. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">Lest we begin to think that theirs was a life of constant toil, there were fun times as well. You can read the descriptions of winter sleigh rides and summer carriage rides in beautiful English style horse-drawn carriages. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNj7jMEdZs1pGScbTnyg1O-sVreiXFqlEm22SMHUrJy9DhJqIZZn5cgeaMdVnKqb015AS-EgqAH8WJ9mwp1W9s0Wtn4bfDMs-znh-4EQzuKNqcznaIyjHe0OfPUVX2pTpdkqkjoQ33XIvC/s1600/PostcardGreenwichCTGreenwichAve1910.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="470" data-original-width="728" height="206" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNj7jMEdZs1pGScbTnyg1O-sVreiXFqlEm22SMHUrJy9DhJqIZZn5cgeaMdVnKqb015AS-EgqAH8WJ9mwp1W9s0Wtn4bfDMs-znh-4EQzuKNqcznaIyjHe0OfPUVX2pTpdkqkjoQ33XIvC/s320/PostcardGreenwichCTGreenwichAve1910.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<o:p></o:p><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">The wondrous thing about these stories is the details that transport the reader to another time. The Spragues seem to remember everyone they knew when they were growing up, from the people who delivered the ice in the summer, to the shoemaker and pizza maker and the bakers. They reminisce about the streets and the buildings no longer there. In the fall there was Mr. Mead’s apple orchard, with apples ripe and so enticing, kids just had to pick the tempting fruit. They remember the old post office and before, when it was a hole in the ground filled with water that froze over in the winter, allowing the kids to ice skate. The Spragues describe a time when Greenwich Avenue had no lights and no cars, just horses pulling a trolley up and down with a water trough at the end.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">The Spragues interview is a long one, well worth the reading. Their knowledge of old Greenwich and the people who lived and worked and played here is staggering. It contains much detail on life in old Greenwich. Life was hard and much was expected of kids who were many times forced by circumstances to grow up quickly and to take on adult responsibilities. But these hard times were also punctuated with good ones.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">For an amazingly detailed remembrance of the Greenwich that used to be, I would encourage you to come to the library and read the Spragues story. It may inspire you to drive around to see where the old bakery with the warm rolls in winter was located or even to find the old Spragues house. And therein lies the value of the Oral History Project’s vast collection, memories that intrigue us and stir the imagination.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip02363Z0d-L8pJCPAaUnhlnpdcIlqSBP_FsG-s944BvR6HtHeW_-jHiz8U-nBxFST9gpkdf-jl9EIESkVCkatpRr8NXlNpWKXgo5OPh0tMk_0m6mhGkkiUh04GCREB8-s-bxMvCn8jlcD/s1600/PostcardGreenwichCTLafayettePlace1906.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="427" data-original-width="640" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip02363Z0d-L8pJCPAaUnhlnpdcIlqSBP_FsG-s944BvR6HtHeW_-jHiz8U-nBxFST9gpkdf-jl9EIESkVCkatpRr8NXlNpWKXgo5OPh0tMk_0m6mhGkkiUh04GCREB8-s-bxMvCn8jlcD/s320/PostcardGreenwichCTLafayettePlace1906.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<o:p></o:p><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">*Mr. Sprague was born November 11, 1893, in Waterford, Ireland; died March 22, 1979, in Stamford, CT. Mrs. Sprague was born August 15, 1892, in Waterford, Ireland; died November 11, 1979, in Mount Pleasant, NY. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: medium;"><i>All photos from Wiki Commons, Greenwich Connecticut, postcards.</i></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: medium;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">The Sprague interview, </span></i><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">Greenwich in the Early 1900s<i>, can be found in the circulating collection on the Oral History Project kiosk on the first floor. Additionally, a copy of the interview can be found in the OHP collection in the local history reference area on the first floor. Library patrons may also read the interview at the OHP office on the lower level of the library. <span style="color: #515151;"> </span></i></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
oral history adminhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00231094595333269577noreply@blogger.com0