1 12 6 https://d1y502jg6fpugt.cloudfront.net/34234/archive/files/9a54c1c4277a1027ff19a99c1a9c3bea.pdf?Expires=1776902400&Signature=feBHxtCONCiDYyfwNNSXVCCasUnM3lC4%7EmIB%7Ed%7EJ55OZLQZeDK96bAR7qnWyJaXoaKg%7EgqpfjNBFSFRezdk-GET%7EkLPY%7E2Z2hvoH9niOXdFBqY1YopnBHy0mOWILy1UdxoC0pd9EqIy6IXRxzd2wpRacDOtdy4W00Y%7EB9KL8gAK0kHzNEb%7E1qm8%7EyXPdg57Hjhm5A2URD-Oa4b7-9-sQxvcNqZ59HiWQ351Lkhp-bRm54bra3zNtmVx1VKH7prOmAtnPYJFxXY36q3HYptx5B19We3oFXvT1LNoq8T4tm0NvYaXb7yGxwdVdx6EkoNgGP7nmjuomzmVQ889qldIdvg__&Key-Pair-Id=K6UGZS9ZTDSZM 062db25fcce2e5def33ab27948e1b723 PDF Text Text • :. Granvi _ _ _ ount ,, ,, Leona Aldrich Clifford 1912-1990 A Collection of Articles by Leona Clifford From 1980-1990 Brought to you by Granville J{Jstorlcal Society • • �l, l, ... ·~ [ MY GRANDMOTHER [ Growing up, I had the best kind of grandmother. It seemed as though her only role in life was to spoil my sister and me. When we were very young, her husband (my grandfather) passed away and shortly thereafter she retired, so she had lots of time to spend with [ us. [ If there was ever a woman I would aspire to be it was she. Grandma was a giver, the kind of giver who never asks for anything in return. By that I do not mean money (although she gave away most of that), I mean a giver of time, values, and most of all love. She had a love that knew no bonds. She loved nature, animals, people, history and Granville. She spent much of her time researching Granville's ancestors for her own knowledge. But she also did research for people all across the country so that they could fill in the blanks of their family tree. And all for no charge. It wasn't a job for her -- it was a passion. So with her love of history and her love for Julie and me, we spent much of our childhood in cemeteries with her. Once we could read, it became a game with us to race to find the stone Grandma was looking for and to be the first to find it. Often times we would travel to a far off cemetery and make a 11 rubbing 11 of a stone. But for the most part we spent our time in the West Granville Cemetery where she rests today. Because of all the time she devoted to us, I felt I knew everything about my grandma, but it wasn't until I was an adult and began to read the articles herein, that I realized there was so much I didn't know. As I said before, Grandma was a giver. But of all the gifts she gave to me, these articles were the most important because they have given me the gift of history, a sense of self and that is the best gift of all. Happy reading, l [, [ i L, r I L, [ [ [ r L_ Darcy Clifford Cooley November, 2000 [ [ ,....... I .~ ... • L_ [ - -~------- ·- ---- - ---- �January i L, [ [ [ [ [ i L i L- [ r l~ [ [ [ r L r l.- 1980 Long ago Days Christmas has passed by once more but it never fails to bring back many memories of my childhood. We lived, my father, mother, sister and I, with my grandfather in his home, often with a boarder- a teacher during the school year, a ministerial student in the summer. There was not much activity for youngsters sixty years ago in the small towns. The thing we looked forward to every two weeks in good weather was the church supper, followed by a square dance with my father fiddling and prompting and my mother playing chords on the piano. If for any reason I had to miss one of these "bashes" it was the absolute end of the world! The highlight of it all however was the annual Christmas supper with a children 1s program and a tree! This was usually held at church, heated, when I first remember, by wood stoves, one on each side. Many people contributed to this happy occasion but one stands out. Mr. J.E. Downs was a summer resident who lived many years where William Heino does now and he saw to it that the children had many extras as oranges, nuts and candy and that the Sunday School had enough money for every child in town, regardless of creed for a gift. He was our Sunday School Supt. and gave an annual Sunday School picnic for us. One year there was a miniature golf course to play on! He also gave Bibles to those young people joining the church, I have mine still, each leaf edged in gold and my name on the real leather cover. It 1s a prized possession! He encouraged us to read it and gave prizes for learning passages from it. At his death the West Granville Church was a beneficiary of a large amount of money, for those days, as was the Sunday School. Over the years the income has been put to good use. He encouraged us to be good and to do good and I would like at this season with a New Year rolling in to keep his memory alive for a bit. All too soon it will pass into oblivion. Leona A. Clifford �Joseph Duris On November 29th one of West Granville's oldest citizens was laid to rest in the cemetery there. Joseph A. Duris loved his town and his country. He was a veteran of World War I and was interested in veterans affairs as well as town affairs. I believe, however, that what he enjoyed most was working for and m the West Granville Cemetery. For many years he mowed and trimmed, mended and cleaned ancient stones, caused the driveway and parking places to be paved. He visited an old cemetery in Salem, N. Y. and noticed that they raised the American Flag daily(That cemetery has a large proportion, for its size, of Revolutionary War dead.) He came back and had a pole set and put up the flag there each day. He installed a visitor's box and I have seen many compliments in it on the condition of this yard by people looking up ancestors, as well as strangers, who like to look over old cemeteries as I do. Joe and I had many long talks about old times we remembered and others stretching back into the earliest days of the town and I learned a lot. He used to visit shut-ins and when he was able, visited the nursing home where my mother was, bringing small gifts of fruit or candy. Believe me, this was deeply appreciated. West Granville will never be quite the same again. I will miss him. Leona A Clifford '-, �[ [ February [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ r .... 1980 Long Ago Days This is winter??? Of course that could change, and fast, but in almost no case are any of the winters we have now like the ones in my childhood. Winter came and stayed then. You could almost say they were dependable! When it finally settled in, usually by mid-December we always butchered our corn meal fattened hogs. We could look forward to a nice Christmas dinner of roast pork and all the fixin's. Most of all, by then it was safe to store all the fresh meat in what had been years before the old cheese room. (Did you know that in the early and mid 1800's Granville shipped TONS of cheese to the market? Well, they did.) Later the sausage, hams and bacon would be kept there too. In those days, with refrigeration poor or lacking, we didn't have much fresh meat for a large part of the year, and we appreciated the cold that keeps our bounty from spoilage. And the snow came and stayedl We had many mini-vacations on account of it. We looked forward to them. We didn't have the vacations and holidays the school system provides now. From Christmas to "mud-time" we had classes. The roads were often drifted full and there were no snowplows. Some towns had snow rollers drawn by teams of horses or oxen, which packed the snow down, but whether Granville ever used one I can't say. It took a long time to "break-out" all of Granville's roads. Sooner or later, however, we could look up the road and see snow being tossed left and right into the air, and there would be the town crew with shovels and teams of horses, usually Nelson Frisbee's, with a large wood shod sled which he used also in his logging business. This made road tracks where it hadn't drifted and the men had to shovel the rest. It was cold hard work and all of them weren't young, but young or old I remember no job related heart attacks! If they were near a house at lunch time they would be invited in to eat their lunches, which I am sure many times must have needed a bit of thawing. It also gave people a chance to find out what, if anything had been going on while they were isolated-- not many telephones then and often out of order from the storms. These times were hard on the mailman and the family doctor. The former got through if, when, and anyway he could, and I have heard many tales of how they went about it. The doctor's position was the crucial one. There is no comparison between delayed mail and a critically ill person. My grandmother had a severe stroke during one of these winters. Dr. Clifford White came as far as he could by sleigh and the rest of the way horseback across a neighbor's pasture. Grandma's two sons had been called home, probably arriving the same way, and were anxiously waiting his arrival. As he �stepped into the kitchen, my uncles grabbed him and rushed him back outdoors where they liberally rubbed his nose and ears with snow, for they had seen at once he had suffered frostbite. Snow was the old time remedy for this and is frowned on today. I don't know if it helped the doctor but it sure scared me half to death- I didn't know what was happening! We made the most of those winters and went sliding and skiing on the nice homemade skis my father fashioned for us. There were plenty of hills, no traffic, and no bare roads. Our mail was left at the corner, so we would ski to pick it up. Some big boys owned a double ripper, and we made good use of that during our noon recesses and sometimes at night if there was enough moonlight. Sometimes a few grownups came along and that usually insured that someone would pull the rip back up the hill with their car which left a lot more time for sliding down! We never lacked for plenty of winter entertainment. I think we had better roast pork and more fun than people do today. Leona Clifford �[ [ March 1980 [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ ,... - Long Long Ago Days Our rose bushes have leaf buds and our hyacinths are up three inches. Will there be in this crazy year, a maple syrup season? Making some syrup and sugar was once one of our long ago spring pastimes. It needs warm days and cool nights. At present things are looking a bit better in that direction. Only time will tell. Today maple products are big business with all the most modern equipment. Many places have restaurants where one can sample their products at the scene of operations. It is a nice Sunday afternoon trip to v1s1t one of these places and enjoy a supper of waffles or pancakes with bacon or sausage, or a snack of "wax 11 on snow with crackers and dill pickles which are said to enable you to eat more, or a nice piece of homemade apple pie with ice cream and maple syrup. I enjoy going to these places as well as the next one, but there is never the thrill we felt as we prepared to make our own when we were children. We had quite a few maples about our yard. Our method of producing the tasty treat was quite primitive but it was adequate. My father was a Vermonter and knew all the tricks of the trade from primitive to modern. As soon as we saw the sap beginning to run, (as kids we watched for sap icicles coming from small breaks in the tree 1s bark---they were good to eat---) we were after him to set our trees. We used homemade quills. These had to be cleaned and sometimes new ones had to be made. For buckets we had for many years, large tin cans that I think were purchased from the Ames butter store in Westfield. These had to be washed. We had a homemade gadget-- a long, long wire set into a wooden handle. This was thrust into the fire in the kitchen range, and it was red hot it was run through the old quills to clean them out, or through the new quills to make a hole through. I think pieces of staghorn sumac were used for these, for they had a soft center. Possibly this burning did for the sap what oak charred barrels do for whisky! When this equipment was ready, father bored holes in the trees, tapped in the quills, set the cans under them on anything that would keep them level and we were in business. As the buckets filled, we carried the sap home, usually twice a day. Mother strained it through several layers of cheese cloth to remove any 11 foreign bodies 11 and then it went into a large 11 sugaring off11 pan, a relict of the old sap bush which, before my memory, had been part of the farm. There it boiled away on the kitchen range, changing pots as it boiled down until it was syrup at last. 11 11 �Ther~ wasn 1t much of it. It takes gallons of sap to make ~ q~frt ~f s7rup, but we enJoyed every last d,r.QJ_il., W~ qA'd! W~HS'. ,qn snow or we stirred the hot wax until it became fudge. Mother made banana fritters or hot biscuits, or b@il]btd',iri"cY@ilin '):nilk;: aH 1:S&DY,©@i Wtitb i_g~ne,(qµ,~ 3).I}OU.f1tr,ot;9w.,Ph.~e;! '.~_.?µietimes w&, 1ha.1d ·.i1truQ),n '.homei.Iilllader1i~~~cr~pjli)i.l;I ,i '.!,,·"' •J .. -· ~ -· ~1~, •,' .. v'.~;..i~:. :'{1d i'.~ ·.ii l"•.~- ~~ ! ; , r!_!i: .I1t:ifrad;mtJt;.,bJ·eem. o.ei1m€-i.J).M ~QQ- 1,o.,,asii~yi bµ.t,w,e .. th_.9 ,ug);it th,.e_, time anif'effart 1 ',If~ hacdr: '0'®@,f;f/ tweLL i w orithtriu .. J]t :!Mid;, b~(al;L' (~ '}o~: Rf., {½IP,. toq, ;fP:d 'fpen, I tl1.~ .la.~ ctr9p! was gone we began to look forward to anther ~ring. .,_, • .· ;rT::. · •",'•:: :. :,. •·.,.;, , ;/ L~_~q.a· Cl1'fford 1·; .f r 1 f:). .J #~«•:.I":•• 1 , \ ' : • r, ! 7 " ' • ' i / ,' ' Ii': .. j' 0 • .' \ ,r,,., •'.} ! \ r, ' ,·,1 j 'I .,._ .i ' I ) . f ; ~ /' ,·,. J ,, ~ ' / i'. ', ; . ,: \ i __--.,,,, 1· .,. r_\: . '·- I ., )•,/· 'l; I. '} r• .,,· I. :... J " } ,i: J 7 J �[ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ April 1980 Long Ago Days We are about at the end of winter, and about at the end, hopefully, of a bad flu season, which caused many schools to close down for a bit. As of March first, it was reported that 120 people had already died of it in this country. I suppose it was called an epidemic but it was surely not in the same class with the ones caused in past generations by such scurges as small pox, the "bloody flux" --a killer type of dysentery -- yellow fever, typhoid, diphtheria, etc. Indeed there are not many cases of the diseases experienced as a child, fifty or sixty years ago, such as measles, whooping cough, mumps, chicken pox. We are blessed in these days for escaping so many of them, thanks to vaccinations, inoculations, antibiotics and modern medical know how. It was a precarious existence in the long ago days; for when an epidemic struck, destruction reigned. Granville had its share of many of them. An old record says of one siege of the small pox, "five corpses unburied in this town". Quite a few old gravestones give this as the cause of death. Diphtheria -"throat distemper", --wreaked havoc. In Tolland, during an outbreak of it several people died, including the doctor from New Boston, who was attempting to care for them. In Southwick, a raging epidemic about 1802 or so, did away with a large percentage of the populace including a doctor. Children seemed to be the most vulnerable, but not always. There are five graveyards in Granville. In all but one it seems that each was first opened to receive the body of a child, a tragic situation! In 1777, there was a terrible loss of life everywhere from "camp distemper". Granville was no exception. What was it? I don't know and I have so far been unable to find out, but it surely seems that it came home with soldiers returning from the war. The beloved Dr. Timothy Cooley almost lost his life to it and one of his brothers and a sister did. At the burial of one of them the grieving father picked out a spot for Timothy's last resting place, believing his death was also imminent. However, he survived, after a painful recovery, and lived many years. Probably the greatest tragedy in one family that ever occurred here was in the family of Deacon Levi Cooley --no relation as far as I can find out to Dr. Timothy. He was probably brother to Noah Cooley who ran the store in West Granville. Levi married his first wife, on Nov. 7, 1795, Rebecca Dickinson. From the layout of graves in the old cemetery on Granville Hill it appears that she was probably a daughter of Capt. Richard Dickinson. She died "in child bed" August 16, 1809, age 34, leaving six or seven children and had already buried one, Rebekah, who died being scalded in 1905. �One can imagine what a crushing blow that was to them all, but especially the father. There were few places to turn for help in those days, for a man in his situation. The best solution was to remarry as soon as it was respectably possible and Deacon Cooley did, Dec. 24, 1811. His bride was Elizabeth Adams of Otis. It must have been a big relief to have a complete home life again, but it did not last for long. In 1812, a new epidemic swept New England with a tremendous loss of life. I have found records of it in several states. In a town in New Hampshire a farmer butchered hogs in the morning and by night he had died of a strange malady. Of course the pigs were blamed, which was not the case. Again I don't know what it was. I would like to. Here in Granville it was called "spotted fever". It struck the Cooley family! On February 23rd, Mirilla, age 2, at whose birth the mother had died, succumbed to it. Next on March 31st, Melissa, age 9, on April 2nd, Richard, age 11, and on April 16th, Henrietta, at age 14, joined the others in the old cemetery. Another child, Rebekah, age 12 died of it, but no month or day is stated. She was no doubt another sister. Someone erected a monument. It says--In Memory of Mrs. Rebeckah Cooley, wife of Mr. Levi Cooley who died August 10, 1809, age 34 years. Behold, here I lie with six children round me---one on my right, two on my left, and three at my feet. I can find only one more reference to this family. It is the death of Lt. Levi Sherman Cooley, age 26, son of Deacon Levi, Jan. 8, 1832. He too is buried near the others. I would like to know what became of the Deacon and his wife but I don't. It is not too hard to imagine that they may have moved far away from all reminders of their terrible tragedy. Leona A. Clifford �May 1980 Long Ago Days May is a special month for me. In it my father, my husband , and one of my three beautiful granddaughters were born , and in it my sweetheart and I were married. It holds a great many of my life's dearest memories. The following is a childhood one. When I was in grammar school, eleven the pupils had the task---and I remember it as a pleasure---- a little variation from everyday events--of decorating the soldier's graves in the West Granville Cemetery, on Memorial Day, with bouquets of flowers. This is the second oldest cemetery in town, the one on Granville Center Hill being the oldest. Up until my grammar school days ended in 1927 , there had been in this country , since Granville was settled, six wars, French and Indian, Revolution, 1812, Civil , Spanish-American, and World War I(I remember the bell in the church on the green being rung on the day the latter one ended). It is hard to determine who might have fought in the French and Indian War but Mr. Wilson, in his Granville history, names James Burt, of what is now Tolland . Also, Edmund Barlow is supposed to have been one. He is buried m the oldest graveyard . There is at least one veteran of 1812 in west Granville--Henry Clark-who has no stone but thanks to the late Joseph Duris has a flag marker. Several civil war soldiers rest here, including Charles Terrett, whose monument says "wounded at Cold Harbor," Calvin Dustin, the grandfather of Art Sheets. However, most of the graves are those of men of the Revolution, and most of the veterans from Granville who died here are in this cemetery. My father was the caretaker for several years and he had a list of veteran graves. Each year our teacher would divide the list as evenly as possible, giving us each two or three names. On The Day , we brought to school the appropriate number of bouquets of whatever flowers we had been able to gather. It seems to me, looking back, that most of them were lilacs or apple blossoms, but now-a-days both are usually long gone by May 30th-(or the new date--May 26th this year-- that we now use). The climate has warmed up a lot! There would be a few narcissus but also many wildflowers, I think especially of the dainty wild red columbines, with which many of our offerings were laced...... we were also expected to provide on odd assortment of vases, mostly old pickle jars or tin cans, and a little water for each one so those soldiers could have their flowers �as long as possible. One year we had the help of the small burro that belonged to Jay and Steve Welch, who carried our flowers in pails hung across his back. He was a great addition to our parade. At the appointed time we marched in a body to the cemetery. Then, standing under the beautiful old maple trees that separated the "old" part of this yard from the "new " section we held our "exercises"--salute to the flag, recitations we had learned especially for the occasion, such as Paul Revere's Ride, Gettysburg Address, etc., songs such as Star Spangled Banner, Battle Hymn of the Republic, Tenting Tonight. Then we scampered away to find "our" soldiers and fix our bouquets properly in front of their stones. Flags had been placed there as usual. Then we marched back to school, feeling we had made a great patriotic gesture. I guess this custom has now almost or entirely vanished. Quite a few years ago, having occasion to go to the cemetery right after May 30th I found bunches of flowers on each grave but they were already dead---just a little pile of withered rubbish . That once a year remembrance for those men who fought so that we might enjoy life as we know it today seems to me to be worthy of both a pickle jar and some water. Even then it is a short lived one, but then as you probably know by now, I'm old fashioned! The old ways mean a lot to me. Leona A. Clifford �r t r i l , r1 L~ ! r L I : r I L_ r I l, ,--, I l~ ,~ I I I L :' I r ' l I ~ r1 l -- ,-~ I r L~ r I l~ June 1980 Long Ago Days Humanity and bees have had a long association---ever since man first found out about honey. It would be interesting to know how and when he discovered this delicious treat, probably stuck his fingers into some and then licked them to get the sticky off! Among ancient customs was that of sending a member of the household to "tell the Bees" when someone in the family died. How this originated I can't say, but at least three poets wrote on the subject. My favorite is the one I remember from my high school days, written by John Greenleaf Whittier. It has fourteen stanzas and is quite sad---telling of someone commg home, after a long absence, to find a loved one gone. Part of it goes so--Nothing changed but the hives of bees Before them, under the garden wall, Forward and back, Went drearily singing the chore girl small, Draping each hive with a shred of black. Trembling I listened---the summer sun Had the chill of snow, For I know she was telling the bees of one Gone on the journey we all must go. When I was a child my father kept bees. I went with him when he bought his first swarms from Talcott Banning, who lived in Hartland Hollow. They were Italian bees--much prettier, with their gold and black striped bodies, and for some reason, with much nicer dispositions than black bees with their black bodies. After that he accumulated several wild swarms. Sometimes, as the occasion arose, he purchased a new queen, who would arrive with several companions, in a fine wire cage, in our mail bag. In the cage was a sugar cake. They always arrived in fine shape from some beekeeper's supply house. I liked to go into our old tool shed and watch through a window when he inspected the hives, or when a "super" had to be added or removed. Supers were put on top of the regular hive as the bees ran out of honey, storage room,-rather like adding new stories to a house, and in a good year sometimes each hive would would have three or four of them by the fall. He would point out "queen cells" if there were any, and he would find the resident queen for us to look at. She was much larger than the others and very illusive. The other bees always attempted to hide her, for she laid all the eggs which hatched the new bees needed to keep the swarm at full strength, and they protected her as best �they could. He showed us the drones, many of which would be killed in the fall by the workers. In the last warm days of the year we would watch many an execution! Drones only being sex symbols, so to speak, the workers didn't plan on feeding too many of them all winterl Their workers were diligent and business like. You would never see a healthy one that wasn't in a hurry. In the fall the supers were removed and its frames were carried to Lester Treat on Beech Hill. He had an extractor which removed the honey from the combs. We kept some and the rest was put in glass jars with the pretty colored labels and sold. After this the hives were readied for winter. Their food supply was checked to see if they would need to be fed. Wire net was tacked over entrances to keep out the field mice who, if they got in would annihilate the colony. Then the whole business had to be well packed on all sides with hay or straw to keep the bees warm through the long winter. During that time my father might build a new hive or two, or more supers, or make new frames for the next season. The most fun of all was to go bee hunting. My father had a "bee box" which sat on a stand, a little below eye level. In it he sprinkled a few drops of anise, a scent that attracts bees. On top of that went a piece of honey comb filled with sugar syrup. He would catch a bee from a flower in a small receptacle and drop it onto the comb in the bee box. While the bee was usually upset a bit by this it immediately found it had been introduced to a land of plenty and would settle down to business. When it had taken on all it could carry it would fly out, circle a few times to get its bearings, and make a "bee line" for home. We watched until it disappeared from sight and then moved the box along his path as far as we could. Sometimes quite a few moves occurred. Sometimes we discovered that the bees, for it had soon brought many, many companions along, were coming from the opposite direction, which meant that we had by-passed their hid-out. Then we had to back track, but at this point we were usually very near their home, most usually an old hollow tree. When we finally discovered it, we would look, rather in fear and trembling, to see if, by any chance it had already been found and marked by someone else. If so then all we could do was try again another day. If not, my father, with a helper of two, would go at night with a hive and a smoker---a contraption that held burning punk and which stunned the bees enough so they could be handled without too much trouble. One expected to get stung some, in spite of gloves and veils but the prize was worth it, as to buy a swarm was very expensive. If there was honey that could be salvaged that was a bit of a bonus. Off and on one of our hives would become overcrowded. A new queen would be raised and the old one and part of the bees would leave. They usually �[ [ [ [ [ [ r l [ [ r L [ [ r L r l, - went to a nearby tree or bush and congregated in a mass for a while. Rather like a group of hikers trying to decide what to do next. When they made up their mind they would take off barreling through the air in a mass. IC however we noticed them in time my father would hurry to set up a hive with its top off nearby, cut off the limb or branch they were on and shake the biggest part of them into the hive. That was all he had to do. As soon as the rest of the crowd discovered where their queen had disappeared to, it didn't take them long to crawl into their new quarters, like pigeons going home to ·roost! As night fell my father would remove this new hive to a place by the others and things were back to normal. It was exciting, and then of course, we now had two swarms instead of one. The earlier in the year that we could find a wild swarm, or save a swarming one, the better. They need all of the long summer days to fill their honeycombs. My father used to say,---" A swarm of bees in June is worth a silver spoon. A swarm in July ain't worth a fly". There is a song. "It's a long, long time from May to December, but the days grow shorter when you reach September." I think this applies to the honey making process as well as to peoples lives! Leona A. Clifforc �July 1980 Long Ago Days The Revolutionary Vyar began April 19, 1775 at Lexington, Massachusetts with "the shot heard round the world", and ended with the Treaty of Paris, September 3, 1783. On July 4, 1776 the Declaration of Independence was approved by the Continental Congress. We are now approaching the 205th anniversary of that famous date. The war was not 100% popular in America. There were many Tories, so called, that felt it was foolish, or downright hopeless, or both, to try to shake English rule. They began to be persecuted and many of them fled to Canada, the Maritime Provinces, the West Indies, or back to the "mother country". It was, all things considered, a small war. Probably not more than 15,000 men were engaged in it at any one time, and its battlefields reached from Quebec to Florida. It certainly was not fought as wars in our lifetime have been It was a rather hit or miss affair. It is amazing to think that such conflict, fought as it was, could ever win anything. It was fought in many diverse places by men of all ages--many only boys--who "joined up", left, went home, joined again, some of them for several enlistments. They were for the most part, ill housed, ill clothed, and ill fed, and they suffered terribly from epidemics which were very often carried to the folks back home, where they again re.aped a fearful harvest. A case in point-Luke Hitchcock died of the camp fever in 1777 at New Lebanon, New York on his way home from the battlefields. Eventually, however, m that same year it reached Granville. Thirty-seven of its citizens died of it within two months. They also brought home the small pox. Granville endured three set to's with that! One old record tells of there being " five unburied corpses" in town at one time from this illness, doubtless there were many others, before and after! However, as it has in all wars that have occurred since it was first settled, Granville did its part. It is reported that in 1775 sixty men answered the Lexington alarm, and that in 1776 seventy-three more enlisted, though it is quite likely that some of these were going for a "second hitch". Sixty-five of these veterans are buried here and fourteen reportedly died in the service. Besides all these, many with their families moved away after the hostilities ceased, to what I supposed they considered "greener pastures". Two of these were:-1. Captain Lebbeus Ball He commanded the Granville troop of Minutemen who marched to �Lexington on the alarm of April 19, 1775. He and his family moved to New York State. Later on one of them married a Jerome and from that line came Jennie Jerome, mother of England's Winston Churchill. ' ,--, I ' I : I I '-- ' I L ' I I I , ~ 2. Jacob Bates He was called Colonel in Granville records, and was supposed to have been with General Washington when he crossed the Delaware in December 177 6 and captured 1000 Hessian soldiers, as well as seeing much more service in various places, married Ruth Chapman. She was the widow of Isaac Chapman who died at Ticonderoga and the mother of Content Chapman who married Dr. Timothy Cooley. They removed to Northampton and from there came a long line of illustrious citizens, including the Hon. Frederick Gillett of Westfield, one time United States Senator. Many lived out their lives here however, including Col. Timothy Robinson, Capt. Benjamin Barnes, who was with Ethan Allen and his Green Mountain Boys at the capture of Fort Ticonderoga in May, 1775, Capt. William Cooley, and Capt. Aaron Coe. There were lieutenants, sergeants, corporals, and many, many privates in the great struggle for liberty, who showed extreme devotion and spirit. They marched weary miles, fought grueling battles, suffered tremendous deprivations and hardships, including the afore mentioned diseases, that in some places killed more soldiers than the British! Because these men lived and fought for their freedom we live today in the best nation in the world, regardless of what we think of its faults. They made it possible. For each and every one of them we should be truly and eternally grateful. In closing I give you the war record of Capt. William Cooley as taken from the records of Massachusetts men who served in this war. William Cooley, Capt. 9th Company, Col. John Mosleys 3rd Hampshire regt. , listed in officers of Massachusetts militia; ordered in council, April 26, 1776, that a commission be issued; reported commissioned April 26, 1776; also Capt. in a detachment from 3rd Hampshire regt. commanded by Lt. Col. Timothy Robinson, marched October 21, 1776; by order of Gen. Schyler to reinforce the army at Ticonderoga; also Col. John Mosleys regt. engaged September 23, 1776, discharged November 16, 177 6: service two months 1 day, travel included. Roll dated North Castle; also Col. John Mosleys Hampshire County regt. engaged July 9, 1777, discharged August 12, 1777, service 39 days travel included, company marched to reinforce the Northern army; also same regt. engaged August 17, discharged August 19, 1777, service 4 days, company marched toward Bennington, Vermont on an alarm. Roll sworn to at Granville. Leona A. Clifford �August 1980 Long Ago Days Sometimes, seeing and hearing about the vacations and "fun times" that children of today enjoy, it seems as if good times in my day were entirely lacking---that there were just about no good times, but of course that isn't entirely true, and what we had beat those of the generations before by a mile! We have a diary kept by my Aunt, Anna Nelson Clark, when she was a teenager in the early l 880's and her days, fun and all, were certainly boring compared to my own. Between visiting Grandpa (Aaron Nelson, who lived where Avery Bates does now), a short walk from her home, taking her weekly music lesson from a man who I think was a Mr. Wheeler, and a very rare birthday party, her life must have been really DULL! She finally married at eighteen and lived in New Britian, Conn. for a while before moving back to Hartland Hollow where she died at the young age of 29. I have always hoped that in the city, for a little while, she finally had a few good times! As children, we didn't have most of the amusements that young people have today---movies, radios, T.V., roller skating, disco dancing, etc., etc. We also never had cigarettes, alcohol or drugs. As to the later three, our parents knew where we were and what we were up to about 99/ l 00% of the time and it absolutely wouldn't have been allowed-not as long as we lived under their roof tree, and there was no place else to live. No teenager had their own "pad" then! In the cities young people smoked-even a few girls, and drank, including bathtub gin during prohibition. The girls wore short skirts and high heels and rolled their stockings, but no way were we "country mice" allowed such scandalous behavior as that! We had a different school vacation system then too. Of course we had Thanksgiving and Christmas but the next one came in "mud time"-two or three weeks in March or April as the condition of the dirt roads of those days demanded, they became impassable. In June, however we finally arrived at SUMMER VACATION, the best of all. As soon as we were old enough-about six or seven as I recall, we spent two weeks every summer with my uncle, Olin Nelson and his wife Aunt Mayme, in Bristol, Conn. How we looked forward to that! Oh the great things we got to enjoy that we never did any other time of year! We got to go to the movies once or twice If_my Aunt thought the current attractions were suitable. We saw lots of Charlie Chaplin and Our Gang and similar films, and there was always the vaudeville show. Of course we went to the matinees, being too young for much if any, night life! One day, during the time we were there, a picnic lunch was packed and we would go by trolley car to Rockwell Park. There we could play on the swings, and see-saws and wade in the pool. It was always looked forward to. There were no playgrounds in Granville-not even at the school grounds, such as are there now. In the afternoons we could take out nickels and go to a small nearby shop for ice cream, or go down to the big stores to shop with Aunt Mayme. At night we went for little rides to a near-by farmers for vegetables, or for more ice cream. Uncle Olin never would buy any Coca-Cola, which somewhere I had tasted and liked, as he said it was full of "dope". �[ [ [ [ [ [ r L [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ On the Sunday we were there, another picnic lunch was packed. There were ham sandwiches with mustard, hard boiled eggs, pickles, coffee and cookies, ( does anyone remember coconut bars and Mary Anns?), and away we went to the beach. Usually we went to Light House Pt. in New Haven. After lunch we looked for shells and went wading in the ocean. Getting ready to indulge in the latter sport called for great preparation-not just like shedding our shoes and stockings a Rockwell Park. First, Uncle Olin put the side curtains on the car. Inside we took off shoes and stockings and had our dresses tucked into our bloomers, I think we also shed any miscellaneous underwear, as well. That done we were ready to face the world, not having shocked any other vacationers by a chance peek at our bare bodies! When we finished, usually when we turned blue and our teeth chattered for we had to make the most of this one chance per year, back to the privacy of the car where we reassembled our selves. Then the side curtains came off and things were back to normal. Once in a while we went to a place called Oyster River to dig clams. We ran about the sand stamping our feet and when a clam squirted Uncle Olin dug it up. When we got back home we had them to eat---another great treat, for we seldom had any at home, although my mother made the best clam chowder in the world. One year we spent a whole Saturday or Sunday in New Haven at the Ringling, Barnum and Bailey's circus. We saw everything there===the show under the Big Top, the side show tent with the fat lady and the wild man and all the other poor freaks of nature. It was here that we were introduced to cotton candy. I can see it all yet! We also spent some of our vacation with my Uncle Leland Nelson in East Hartford, Conn. but that was not much fun. My Aunt Jennie, being I believe, one of the world's most patient woman, had ·the job of taking us to a dentist for necessary check-ups and dental work. I think I gave her a hard time about it too. The only fun part was riding on the trolleys to Hartford. We went to church a lot while we were there too, Aunt Jennie being of a very religious frame of mind. Other vacations periods never compared to summer. During them we played house, making lots of mud pies, hunted for wild flowers in the spring, and tagged my father around when -he was cutting wood, trimming the orchard, haying or doing any one of the other numerous jobs the farm required. Sometimes we went to the corner of our road to play with Ralph and Russell Cooley, or they came to play with us. They were the only playmates we had outside of school. We lived a long way from others. We would go to the old mill dam on the. Hubbard River, (only remnants were still there in the 1920's), and hunt for black clams. We looked for pearls in them but never found any. We caught crayfish and shiners in the river too. In late summer there where lots of black berries along the river banks. We picked blueberries for neighbors, high bush for Charles Sheets and low bush for Cora Welch, when we were a bit older, but that wasn't for fun, that was to earn "pin money", but we had a good time doing it. All of this seemed a lot of fun in those days, but now when I recall my wonderful vacations and the different pleasures we enjoyed, first my children, and now my grandchildren say "Gee, Ma or Grandma, as the case may be,) I'm sure glad I wasn't you"! As far as I'm concerned though, life was really good then! Leona A. Clifford �------------------ September 1980 Long Ago Days A short while ago I heard that someone had written that nostalgia is a deep longing for the good old times and things that never really were. I don't buy that. I suppose, in retrospect, many things seem to have been much better than they really were, but oh how dear most of the memories of the old days are to me and how very real! I have, once again, just attended Old Home Day in West Granville. This has become a regular custom in many towns, and I believe, especially in New England. This one I think, got off the ground with the 150th anniversary of the church in 1931, and has been held ever since on the third Sunday of August. As one of the young generation, fifty years ago it was eagerly looked forward to. We worked hard cleaning and decorating the sanctuary, and practiced long and hard on our choir music under the patient direction of Alice Frisbie. There was no older choir then as there had been when I was real small. We looked forward to seeing old friends and former neighbors who returned for that day-- people who member Frank Ives, who grew up where Avery Bates now lives, coming with his sons, also William Atkins and his sister Mary, with their families, who once lived on the State Forest Road in the house, now torn down, where Lester and Edith Sattler lived. Both these men lived in South Amherst, Mass. At one time the three deacons in the Congregational Church there were all transplanted "Granvillites". The third one was Truman Coe. I think this says something about the quality of these native sons. There were many others, members of Nelson and Mary Frisbie's family, and the Brunk family who, though they lived in the edge of Tolland, attended this church, my Uncle Olin Nelson and his wife, and my Aunt Jennie Nelson, who lived here as a girl, and was the niece of Mr. Marks who ran the tannery where Dave Day now lives-- I could go on and on-- needless to say, the day was a full one of worship, picnics, visiting and reminiscing. It seemed to us, the young generation, that it was a very happy time indeed. However, 11 tempus fugit" and things change. It is very depressing to find suddenly, 50-60 years later that I am now of the old generation even if I don't feel as if I were--at least some of the time! Now each year there seems to be more and more people I don't know. I feel rather like a stranger in the place where my mother, myself and my children were born and where my family lived for over 100 years. Like Martin Luther King, I have a dream, a different one for he looked �--- --------- [ r I I L- ~ I L_. i L_ r L rI L rI I L i I I L i l~ ,--, L_ : I I ; : I L L. r- i I L., r I ahead in his and I would wander back in time. I would go back to Old Home Day some wonderful, magical year and see all the old friends. I would hear Charles Sheets booming bass voice, and Martha Brunks soulful soprano as they, with many others sang in choir, while my mother did the best she could on the old pump organ. They would never have won a prize but they gave their musical all! I would see all the student ministers who served that parish when I was growing up. They came from the Hartford Theological Seminary and made our home their home each summer plus many weekends. There would be Dr. Howard Short who was serving in 1931, and who wrote a booklet on that occasion. He is now retired after long service with the Christian church (Disciples of Christ), in St. Louis, Missouri, but keeps busy still on a world wide level. There were others, George Owen, Fred Thompson, Glenn Holman, Walter Couch, and William Booth. Fred and Walter have joined most of the people in my dream, in their eternal resting place, and the others have, or are about to join me in the old generation. As time never reverses itself however, my dream is just that and nothing more. I find it depressing, but next year when the 200th anniversary of this grand old institution rolls around and someone says to me, "My goodness, have you lived long enough to have attended two of these affairs?", that will be, as the kids say, the bitter end! Leona A. Clifford �October 1980 Long Ago Days We have had, it seems to me, an exceptionally hot and sticky summer and I, for one, am glad it's on the wane. Now we are coming into fall, my favorite season of the year. Mother never liked fall--she said it was only a reminder that winter was nearly upon us. To me, it is more like nature getting ready for a good long rest before the resurrection of spring, even though I'm not a lover of cold and snow. It is a beautiful time, especially in our part of the country. I like to see the hills and valleys turning to red and gold with a hefty sprinkling of evergreens to set them off. I like to see the leaves lazily falling, gradually baring limbs and trunks of the trees with their different colors and patterns of bark. I like to see the flocks of wild geese joyously winging their way south. They carry on such a continuous conversation! I would like to know what they are so happily discussing. Are they telling of a summer well spent, their new brooks, conditions in the far places they have been this summer, or are they discussing where to stay tonight, how long before they'll arrive at winter quarters, what pitfalls to look out for on the long journey? They seen to be happy, very interested in life and to have a definite purpose in mind. As for us, "Harvest Time" is here once again and that al ways takes me back to days on the old farm in West Granville, and the wonderful gardens my · father raised there. W c were kept busy canning, pickling, and preserving. The old wood range in the kitchen ran 365 days a year but in this season it was really kept blazing, no matter what, as mother and I canned (no freezers then), quarts of peas, string beans, corn, beets, tomatoes, peaches, pears, plums, and berries. You could name it and if we raised it we canned it! Sometimes we canned chicken or fresh pork. One night in tomato canning time stands out in my memory. George Owens, our student minister at the time, brought his father to spend the weekend. They arrived well after dark. As they opened the kitchen door they were met by a tomato holocaust! They were all over the place--some just peeled, some in jars ready to process, some just out of the canner, and the canner itself furiously boiling away on the stove with a full load. The room was HOT, and the windows were all steamed up. The dear old man was so sturined that all he could say was a weak, "My goodness' 1 ! He acted a bit flabbergasted! Then there were all the pickles; pickles packed in brine which you had to freshen in cold water and then pack in jars of vinegar for a few days; pickles packed in a crock with a mixture of vinegar, mustard, salt, etc. These had a layer of clean grape leaves on top and were my favorite in the long ago days. Now they give me the same sensation in my jaws that I got when I had the �[ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ - .... - mumps sixty years ago! There was chili sauce, piccalilli, corn relish, mustard pickles, bread & butter pickles, sweet pickled seckel pears, green tomatoes and ripe cucumbers. Sometimes it seemed as if there was no end to it. When it appeared however, that the first frost was imminent, we still scurried around to bring in the last remnants of whatever was still in the garden. One way or another it all got used up! Some of you will remember the Hampden Country League's "Garden Special" was such a good way to use these tidbits, and was great in wintertime casseroles. Only one thing remained in the garden all winter-- parsnips well covered against the cold, and oh such a welcome fresh addition to early spring and winter-weary meals! When all was over, the cupboards in the cellar were cram-jam full. They looked pretty and they sure added to the winter's meals which would have been pretty mediocre without them. For the most part we would not have any fresh vegetables until summer rolled around once again. There were always many other things in our old cellar--winter squashes, huge dark green hubbards and the only kind we raised, rutabagas or winter turnips, winter cabbages pulled root and all and hung up that way, a bin-full of potatoes. (Dad raised Irish Cobblers for early potatoes but in the bin were Green Mountains.) Another bin held many bushels of applcs--Baldwins. There was always a barrel of Northern Spys, my favorite in the old days. We had in the farms two orchards, an assortment of Red Astrakans, Early Harvest, Hurlburt Stripes, Russets, Sheep-Noses, Greenings, and two trees of Golden Sweets for baking. We also had Wolf Rivers and a "new" kind, Opalescents, that Grandpa bought for a "trial run". Both kinds tasted like rubbery cardboard. My dad loved baked apples and his favorites were Pound Sweets which we didn't raise but we could get them from "Uncle Steve Roberts". They were good just as they came from the oven with a little cream, or cut up when they were cold in a bowl of bread and milk. I can taste still! Today we get every kind of vegetable and fruit imaginable all winter long but they don't taste the same. There was something special about the first "mess" of greens, the first crisp cucumber, juicy wine ripened tomatoes, and golden bantam com that went to the table minutes after it left the corn patch that no "store bought" ever approximated. Those from the store are better than none I grant you, but they were so travel weary and shop worn by their long trip from the far places capable of producing them during our winter while we battle snow and cold here in New England, that they are poor substitutes at best. Like everyone else I eat them too but in the Good Old Days anticipating all the good food to come another summer whetted the appetite more than all the off season offerings of all the supermarkets anywhere. It was one of the great fun parts of living. After all, to me, anything and everything in its own season is much the •best and has no equal! Leona A. Cliffore �November 1980 Long Ago Days Today health care in this country is a disaster! We have all sorts of specialists, miracle drugs, and sophisticated treatments and machines to keep us alive. If you are extremely wealthy or downright poor, or have health insurance you are probably going to weather the storm. However, there were too many ordinary people in this country who can neither afford the care or the insurance. I got to thinking about how it was in the old days, beginning with the Indians. They had their medicine men and all of nature to provide for their health needs and were remarkably skilled along those lines. I bought a book this summer--"How the Indians Used Wild Plants for Food, Medicine, and Crafts." A most interesting story. Many of the medicinal plants they used, have, over the years, been listed in the U.S. Pharmacopedia, including mint, burdock, wild ginger, boneset, wild cherry, blood root, prickly ash, plantain, Labrador tea, which they considered a tonic and which is said to have replaced regular tea for the settlers during the Revolution. There were many others. Many of them have been used down through the years and some old 11 die hards" like me still use them! Many towns back a ways had a "live in" Doctor. It gave one a sense of security to know he was there. He held office hours twice a day and sometimes more, and if you couldn't get to him he came to you. If you were dying he stayed until the end if he possibly could. He was a neighbor and a friend as well as an M.D. He traveled by foot; horseback, horse and buggy, or sleigh, depending on the season, by car, and in very remote places today by plane. Now-a-days he doesn't come to you--dying or not, you go to him or to the emergency room, where oftener than not you find that you land in the hands of a complete stranger. This last is better than nothing but there certainly isn't the sense of caring and trust of yesteryear. There were many local healers, if you will, in earlier times. My great aunt Anna Barlow who lived with my Nelson grandparents for about thirty five years,(from her husband's death until her own) was such a one. She was called a "homeopath 11 • For a long time her chest containing all kinds of pills and potions and her 11 doctors book" that went with it, languished in our attic. Finally mother threw them out, having decided they were dangerous to have around. From that chest I first learned of digitalis, belladonna, calomel and qumme and many other things still used today. She was not alone. Many areas had their practitioners who, though having no formal training, were endowed �' ' : ' ' ' L -~ r· ' I L i L with the natural ability to heal. "Dr." Nathan Fenn lived on the Albert Sheet's place. He visited many a sick bed and these visits along with his prognosis were often noted in the local news item of the daily or weekly paper. When my uncle Josiah Aldrich left the comparative comforts of Vermont in the mid 1800s for the wilds of Minnesota, he became the only doctor for miles around. A few years ago I received a letter from a woman in his home town, Star Lake, and she told me quite a few tales of his success in that direction. I expect many people thanked God for these pioneer men and sometimes women as well, who did what they could for the sick and injured under what must often have been the most trying circumstances. In my early and not so early days Dr. Clifford White lived in Granville. He brought me into the world, pulled my baby teeth, and saw my sister and I through all our childhood woes of mumps, chicken pox, whooping cough, etc. I am sure many of you still remember him. In the fall my folks harvested an ample supply of spearmint from our spearmint spring and hung it in the attic to dry. When we had colds and fevers mother brewed up a batch of tea for us to drink. It seemed to help. My father favored boneset for such purposes but it was bitter as gall. He made a concoction of alcohol, camphor, rum, black and red pepper and, prickly ash bark. A couple of spoonfuls of this in a glass of hot sweetened water warmed you all over in a hurry. We soaked our feet in a tub of hot mustard water. It helped to clear a congested head by drawing your blood to your feet which became red as beets. In the spring one got dosed with sulfur and molasses to "cleanse the blood." In mother's day, and before, people wore assefoetida bags about there necks to ward off diseases. As its vile odor was guaranteed to keep everyone as far away from you as possible, it probably did. My dad made a drawing salve of beeswax, rosin, and sweet oil, equal parts--that would cleanse a wound, head up a boil, and help draw cut slivers. I still have some and use it. Cobwebs were used to stop hemorrhaging--every barn and attic had plenty of those. We always had a supply of puff balls--a type of mushroom--on hand for the same purpose. Only a few days ago I picked a nice one from our lawn. I may never use it but I'm hanging on to it--nosalgia! ! A while ago a small visitor at the old farm was bitten, probably by a spider. My son applied to pack of plantain leaves until she could get to an emergency room. The doctors had a fit!! None the less this was an old time remedy used by the Indians and early folks for all sorts of bites and stings. If we were stung or bitten out in the field, berrying or whatever, we used mud, and if we were at home, a paste of baking soda and water. Both worked as I had, personally, many occasions to find out. Boiled onions were made into a �poultice for congested lungs. Flaxsees could be used, or mustard paste but onions were more readily available, at least of the farm. Juice from the onions, cooked long and slowly on the back of the ever burning kitchen stove mixed with sugar and used for coughs. A poultice of well peppered salt pork bound around the neck worked miracles overnight on the worst sore throats. I still use i1 too. Beef bones burned to charcoal in the kitchen range, and powder were my father's remedy for the stomach that "didn't" feel just right. My uncle Leland Nelson who suffered from what is now known as post-nasal drip, smoked dried mullien leaves for relief. He too, was great on doctoring folks as well as himself, and he lived until his late eighties. There were some who thought he lived in spite of his remedies--some were pretty drastic!! The list is endless. Many folks also supplemented their income by gathering the wild herbs for drug manufacturers. I had a cousin, Charles Aldrich of Londonderry, Vermont who spent a lifetime doing just that along with his farming and trapping. No one really wants to go back to the time when acute appendicitis or double pneumonia was likely to be a death sentence but old time doctors and old time remedies proved their worth thousands of times over and they didn't cost so much that they were unattainable, or prolong, in misery, a life that was beyond usefulness. Leona A. Clifford ' 1 I .._J �---- --------- December 1980 Long Ago Days ' r- i L L.~ I hope that all of you remember an attic in your childhood. If you lived in a big old house in the country as I did, I am sure that you must have and I hope the memories are as happy as mine. Todays attics are very often only crawl spaces -- no room for any fun at all!! We had two attics on our farm-- the regular one and the back attic over the ell. They held the accumulation of years! No doubt there were many things from long before my grandfather's day, and he came there in 1872. Henry Peebles and several others had lived there before him. No Yankee ever threw away much--you might need it someday--so it piled up. Attics were a great place to play on rainy days. We never bothered much with the back one though we checked it out now and then. It only had one tiny west window, a rickety floor and a very low ceiling. It was quite dark and full of wasps. You could only stand up in the middle of it. It held some cast-offs, including a great many stone bottles, an ancient sewing machine, several old chairs, ice fishing gear, and a strange assortment of odds and ends including many small pieces of boards, none of the better left overs so to speak. The main attic was a different story. There were wasps there too, and all my life I have abhorred them, but there was also much more room to dodge them in. The main chimney ran up through it and kept the place fairly warm except in the dead winter. Then it became the drying room for the weekly laundry. While it was chilly it beat battling with snow and wind outside. The chimney at this point was a solid brick one. It left the old huge stone one with its three fireplaces and its dutch oven about half way up the the second story. It was modern compared to the rest of the place! There were many treasures here to be explored . There were old cradles, churns, a butter worker, picture frames of many styles and sizes, boxes of old books and magazines, odds and ends of dishes, a bird cage, a guitar, a dulcimer, a spinning wheel, old trunks, several feather ticks put to rest expect for winter time when each bed in the house sported one, a hoop skirt frame and a large box of clothes. There were stacks of sheet music, magazines, old town reports, ~tc. etc. It also had two windows, south & north, which, while it was not too brightly lit, was ample for playing house with our dolls while we dressed up in old clothes. Many of these had belonged to Aunt Anne Barlow, along with the hoop skirt frame, although my grandmother, Francena (Reed) Nelson had worn hoop skirts in her day. Her wedding dress had one and grandpa used to laugh and �tell us he couldn't get within four feet of her on their wedding day. All that was then left of the wedding dress was the jacket which I still have. It was bright purple wool challis with a tight bodice and several little tails and it is trimmed with pounds of black jet beaded braid. It was in the box then along with pieces of silk ribbons, several shirtwaists including a fine black and brown silk one with a skirt that fitted the hoop frame and was trimmed with yards of pleated ruffles. There was a large black crepe mourning veil and a small black bonnet that tied under the chin and the last house dress that Aunt Anne ever made for herself. It contained yards of brown figured calico, high necked and long sleeved. All of those garments, many quite intricate, with linings, interlinings, boning, pleating, etc. were hand sewn with hundreds of stitches. There was a small black heavy net cap with four small black bows, such as ladies wore in the house way back then. I have the cap and a fine picture of Aunt Anne wearing it. It was just the greatest fun to be allowed to go up there on rainy or otherwise inclement days and delve into all these treasures. When we tired of playing house and " grown-up" we could read the old books and magazines with their quaint pictures or look over newer additions such as the box of our own baby clothes carefully packed away by mother or old school papers or old postcard albums of which there were several. There was a bountiful supply of all sorts of entertaining things. The house next door also had a similar attic. One day after my sister and I were both married, Carrie Cooley who lived there then, walked down for a neighborly visit one afternoon and she told us that in her attic there were two chairs that were there when her father bought the place and she wanted to give each of us one as she felt sure they must have belonged to our great grandfather, Aaron Nelson, who lived there before they did and sold it to her father Cyrus Ives. We were very pleased to have them and I use mine at my desk. In later years, new owners discovered quite a few other interesting things, including some sketches of places in West Granville made by the girl who came to town as a school teacher and ended up marrying Cyrus Ives' son Frank. Her name was Nellie Gage and she was a life long friend of mothers. We visited her once in a while at her home in South Amherst. After I was married I lived for a short while in the house which had belonged to Gilbert Miller. Its attic had a small collection of leftovers, too. The thing I remember most was an old wicker baby carriage with an attached pink silk parasol and huge wheels. Long ago families quite often lived for several generations in the same place, especially in the country. Over the years, the things great grandpa saved for fear these might come in handy someday, became more of less useless to �D D D D D D D D D D D D later generations. They ignored it and when they died or moved Oft it W<!-S left. behind. I am glad it happened that way;, Ja,,.J;rJ.y case it was responsible fo/ some very happy childhood hours. ' 1 · ~'IriFi:ny •'Gldu home,: rmo, other "'€<lnriJ!(!it ·JwilL 1e'1sh hqy~ 1: tn.f!.t 1 plt;aP11;1re:))A. ~he ;fairly recdb't pasU.,~h~' 6\Jfcd«' house, iiliJ.'aS. ht%e))JJ r@;bi,be.d-: ,atl_, a~r1st twt,<r:1ct~· lN;,.q}X )V ttJ\~1:rV-~S: >!e~t ', .: ·, has either:·beeh rermoveS I to :.>a •·,safer. ,s<pot :DI· 1W01.lE1JO.: ..,hl;pji;i; th~ -;~lWUP:·i PI}'Y !) 1 ,; . . . d. . I ... ''. ,. ; ·•"., ' ' '.,!:·].:I: ' >' ,·' , ·_, ~eona •' ,J.,. .-n·. . ( I ~&- (), f _';; ; ,I Cliffof.d \ il J •a, '!. 'I . ,,., I' f • ,, /j t' 'i'i: ,.· ·'I. :, if ' ,. l ll l. ~ . i. : :. _ f: ' i., ., " ' ,. ,, . .' 'I"\ .· ,. ' I ~ l ._.i .:...:·, ·., I □ , .. ,. ' t'._;•· . . , r. ·' ( i /,.,_ ·'·.''I' ,, . ·1;;• .J. ."•,l· ,·• d.. �February 1981 Long Ago Days I suppose, that as another year is beginning, 1t 1s a time for making New Years Resolutions and looking ahead instead of backwards. Somehow, thought, with the state of things in-general, country and world-wide, one is almost afraid to look ahead. However, pausing to remember that our beautiful town has weathered the adversities of two hundred and more years--it was incorporated in 1754 but a few people were living here, possibly some twenty years before that--it will probably be able to weather what ever lies ahead. I have always been deeply interested in whose early days of Granville, its settlers and old original (?) homesteads, and being raised on one of them surely enlivened that interest. I am trying to find out as much as possible about that particular place because living there for forty years accounted for a great many of my happiest memories. In the beginning, according to the earliest deed I have found so far, it was the "so called Chapman farm--60 acres. more or less." Isaac Chapman had come from Conn. possibly from Saybrook of vicinity, before 1776. He had married Ruth Robinson, the daughter of Phineas and Susanna (Fenn) Robinson about 1773. These Robinson's had come to Granville from Durham Connecticut about 1760. I have never found any record of Isaac in the rolls of Mass. soldiers of the Revolution but Dr. Timothy Cooley wrote wrote in his records that Isaac Chapman enlisted in his fathers -- Capt. William Cooleys Co. in Oct. 1776 to go to Ticonderoga, N.Y. and the same record says that six weeks later Isaac, age 28, died there of camp fever and states that "He was buried near Lake Champlain with all the decencies and sympathies of a camp funeral--he was a man of great piety. Back home he had buried a two year old daughter, Ruth, in April 177 6 and he had left, behind, besides his wife, a six months old girl whom he had named Content, "as an expression of his Christian resignation under his recent bereavement." Much later Content grew up to become the wife of Dr. Timothy Cooley and the mother of ten! The widow Ruth remarried in 1778, Col. Jacob Bates, whose home was that now of Brooks on South Lane #2 in West Granville. He was also a veteran of the Revolution and one story says he crossed the Delaware with Gen. George Washington on that freezing night of Dec. 24, 1776 at Trenton, N.J. I wonder if he knew my gt,gt,gt grandfather, John Richardson of Nelson N.H. whose war record makes the same claim for him! The Bates family moved on to North-Hampton where they eventually died and are buried .. Their first son, Isaac Chapman Bates became a brilliant lawyer and they were the ancestors of many illustrious descendants including �[ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ r L, [ [ the late U.S. Senator, Frederick Gillet of Wesfield. But to get back on the "Chapman farm" and my old home. The house had all the appearances of being very old--small rooms, low ceilings, many exposed ceiling and corner beams, wide board floors, a stone chimney with a huge fireplace and Dutch oven in the kitchen, as well as a smaller fireplace in each of the two front rooms. In later years when my sister and cousin opened one of these smaller ones and attempted to use it it was a smoke bomb and a dismal failure. Mother got William Cooley to brick it all up again! How did one keep warm with them. My dad used to tell us you really didn't. He said what happened was that you blistered front and froze your behind! There was a cellar which was mostly taken up by the base of the chimney and so low almost no one could stand straight in it. There was also a never failing well of the best spring water I have ever encountered! In its first days the house was what was called a "story and a half". Grandpa Nelson knew that another owner, (probably Dwight Wheeler) built on the present second story and the attic. I want so much to know who built that first story that it hurts! I probably am never going to find out. There was an ell running from it of one long room and two small ones. Maybe that was all the house there was to begin with. It had small swirly panes of glass in its little windows and some of these are still there. It seems to have been painted red at some time but I never saw any signs of this red paint elsewhere on the main building. After a while "modernization" set in. An early photo shows small pained windows and no veranda. My uncle Olin Nelson built that on about the time I was born. While not an authentic part of the original it was a most pleasant place to sit on hot afternoons and evenings--family, friends and boarders--all enjoyed it. Before the veranda two large stone hitching posts stood near the front door. They are still in the yard in the new locations and it has been many a year since either of them has made the acquaintance of a horse! There is another mystery here. As a child there stood in the door yard, just south of the driveway, a small salt box house of three rooms. It had no cellar but it had a stout chimney and probably a fireplace that my two uncles, when they were boys, decided to dismantle one day when their parents made one of their infrequent trips to town. Why they did it is anyone's guess and I expect they were duly chastised for it, but it was never replaced and no signs remained of it in my day. The rooms were low and plastered and each one had one or two windows with small panes. On the east side, accessible only from the outside, was a "two haler". The whole building had become a combination pig sty and hen house by the time I first remember it. The pigs occupied the west end and the hens the other two rooms. There was a long �row of hens next on the inside wall where I made one of the happiest discoveries. Having been sent to collect the eggs, I forgot all about that and rushed into the house to tell my mother that our mama cat had "LAID five kittens in a hen nest!" There was also a well near it but we used it for watering stock, its situation near the barns having damaged it some what. No one knew the origin of the house. Grandpa thought it might have been moved from somewhere else to be used as a barn of sorts. As the years have passed I have a deep feeling that IT was the Chapman house. I would dear-love to know. Today it is in the hands of its eighth owner. It is no longer in good condition and needs a lot of work but I hope it will last for a few more years, selfishly, because it always was and always will be my home, I at least hope it will outlast me! NCTIE Lena (Yarmitsky) Hunter died Jan. 1, 1981. She had been a long time resident of Bloomfield, Conn. Who was the daughter of the late Jacob and Sarah Yarmitsky, for about seventy years either full time or summer residents of West Granville. She leaves a son Bruce in California, a brother Abraham of Springfield, and two sisters--Rose Copeland of West Granville and Molly Potoff of Waterbury, Conn. as well as several nieces and nephews. From the time they came to town, before I was born, they were close friends of my family so that I knew all of them all of my life and that situation continues. For a time Lena was a part of our family and I had occasion to know her as kind, generous, warm hearted LADY. I have very many pleasant memories of her. My world will be a little less bright now, as it always is when one of my old friends goes from it. Leona A. Clifford �March 1981 I Long Ago Days School Days- Part 1 When this years Lions Club calendar came out I began to get a lot of questions about the picture that was on it. When I finally obtained mine I was delighted to see a picture of my old alma mater", so to speak, where I struggled, most of to time enjoyably, through the first nine years of my education. When I graduated from it in June 1927, along with the late Edith (Reeves Sattler), Jay Welch, and my sister May( Aldrich) Hague, Edith and I had completed the last ninth grade ever held there, or anywhere else in town for that matter. At that time it was decided that from then on there would be only eight grades of grammar school in town and that those pupils finishing eighth grade that year were perfectly capable of continuing on to high school if that was their intention, which the four of us did, and one, my sister went on to graduate from Westfield State College. She retired in 1978 after many years of teaching school, first in North Canton, Conn., and later in Wells Road School in North Granby, Conn. It so happened that I had recently been going through boxes (!) of my mothers pictures, preparatory to zeroxing many of them for my records, and I had seen an original picture of that scene among them and had saved it out to copy. I knew mothers very good habit of writing pertinent information on the backs of most of her pictures as well. (This is an excellent habit for some of my most frustrating moments have been when I came across some of the photographs my father took years ago in Vermont and not a whit of anything to tell on who or what was the subject of the picture. Some might have added a great deal to my Aldrich Genealogy!) I therefore, immediately looked it up. Mother had written across the back that the picture was taken by George H. Aldrich in 1908. In those days he photographed many local scenes to put on the postcards to sell, having shortly before this been a photographer in Grafton, Vt. The teacher was Florence MaDan, a graduate of Easton Mass. high school. At the time she received $9.00 per week for her labors! Later she married a local boy, Sherman Decker Jr. and they lived in Westfield for many years, but both were well known to West Granville pe_ople. They always attended Old Home Days there and it was their habit to contribute much sweet corn and other produce from their garden to the noon lunch always held on that day. Mrs. Decker attended the showing of the redecorated West Granville Academy in 1976 but has since passed away. Mr. Decker, I believe died before her. He was the son of Sherman Decker Sr. and Harriet Frisbie, sister to Nelson 11 L .. i I L_ r~ I I L ' I I L • L , ,-. I ,- 1 I I L.~ r i L... r l. �Frisbie. They had a lovely home north of the West Granville church at the corner of the old abandoned Otis Road. It burned down before I could remember but I have a good picture of it that my father also took. Mother listed seven of the ten pupils as follows, Gladys (Barnes) Roberts, Harriet (Sheets) Julian, now living in Westfield and sister to Albert Sheets, Ernest Decker, Miss MaDans future brother-in-law, Warren Magrannis, stepbrother of the late William Cooley, who lived where Lester Sattler formerly did on the road to West Hartland, Joseph Le Claire and his brother Edward LeClaire and Franklin Miller. That left three "unknowns" but after some digging I discovered that Joseph Kanesky "Blueberry Joe" was on the honor roll at Ore Hill that year as we also Caroline Sargent. She was the daughter of Rev. Edward Sargent, pastor at West Granville and lived in the parsonage. When the parish could no longer afford a full time minister the place eventually was sold to Mr. and Mrs. Porter Frisbie. The honor roll was quite different then, nothing to do with grades but with attendance - absences and tardiness. There were many times more boys on it than girls as the distances they had to walk were long in many cases and out of the question for the "weaker sex" many winter days I expect. That leaves one girl unaccounted for - I would make a guess that it was Charlotte Frisbie. She was the daughter of Theron and Lucinda (Barnes) Frisbie but her mother died and she was brought up by her aunt Mrs. Decker. Also she was on the honor roll a bit previously. Well I may be wrong about the three, as children did stay out sometimes or another but as far as i can see I'll never find out for sure, so I played a guessing game. The school building may be the oldest standing one in the town of Granville. I have not found any record of just when the one on South Lane m Granville, now a home, was built, so it may be - I just don't know. On Oct 22, 1807 it was " voted to build a school and set it on Mr. Hezekiah Parsons garden lot near the west end of the stone wall - it to be one story high with two chimneys - ( probably fireplaces too) - and to be twenty by thirty feet and arched overhead, and further to raise $ 400.00 for the purpose and $ 50.00 additional to be paid in work and materials. The latter was to be paid in by Mar. 1st and the cash paid in by June 1, 1808. Levi Curtiss, Perry Babcock, Joel Parsons, Charles Curtiss and Nathan Parsons were chosen as the building committee. Something happened to this school. In view of the fact that no other reason has come to light it probably burned and this is given credence by what was voted in regards to Ore Hill school next. On July 7, 1814 it was 11 voted to build a schoolhouse in the Southeast corner of Hezekiah Robinson's land, and to level off the ground where the late school house stood and build a house without a fireplace - (which no doubt _j ......J I , _ _J �r-1 i I L I L r I I L " L ' I L---- r-' 'I l___ '' ' ~ : I ~ "did in" the previous one) and build it twenty by twenty-four feet with a porch in front about four feet square. This building was to be nine feet between floors and to be finished by Nov. 15, 1814." It was also voted "to bid off the building of the house to the " lowest" bidder. On Aug. 1, 1814, it was voted to raise money enough to pay the entire expense of building it and to pay it by Nov. 1, 1814. I can find no record of this building ever being replaced so I believe it 1s the same one I attended. It certainly is in the right spot and Hezekiah Robinson lived probably in the huge house that was standing but trying its best to fall down when I was a little girl. It was about in back of where Arthur Sheets now lives. It had a very large slippery elm tree growing beside it. We liked to go in the spring and get some of the bark to chew. The good Lord only knows why as it was slimy and tasteless - Just that it was a novelty I guess. I have another much older picture of this school taken probably about 1879 or 1880. My mother's sister, Anna (Nelson) Clark is in it. She is in the back row with her hair up on top of her head. Near her is standing Nelsie (Harger) Sheets, Albert and Harriet Sheets, mother, and her two sisters Alice (Harger) Carpenter, who lived where Richard Woodger does now, and Addie (Harger) Stevens who lived in Hartland Hollow and was the mother of Mrs. Andrew Duris Sr. Oh the memories of picking blueberries summers for Nelsie and Charley Sheets! and the fun we had - she was so jolly and full of fun never a dull moment, and oh, the red raspberry pies, (my favorite) that she made. It still makes my mouth water to think about them. The school then had one large double door in front which was later changed when .an ell was built on that end and two doors were put in for a separate boys and girls entryway. In back and south of the schoolhouse itself was standing the same as it did in my day, a large woodshed which held not only wood but the toilets - a cold trip in winter! The shed is long gone and the school closed in the nineteen thirtys. It has for many years been the home of Leroy Clink and family. It served its district long and well for about 125 years. I doubt very much if the present one ever makes that kind of record! Leona A. Clifford �April 1981 Long Ago Days (With a large assist from Albion Wilson's History of Granville) SCHOOLS IN THE OLD DAYS Granville was settled circa 1730-17 40, but if schools such as they had m those held in the homes, I have found no record. However in 1763 at the annual meeting of the District of Granville, formerly Bedford, twenty pounds was raised to support schooling and it was "to be distributed into several of the said districts for the benefit of the whole." Thus it appears that something had been going on before. There were at this time six districts, first, second, third, southeast, northeast, and middle. In this order they were allotted, 6 lbs0 sh; 3 lbs-0 sh; 1 lb. -16 sh; 3 lbs -15 sh; 1 lb. 11 sh; and 3 lbs -18 sh. Keep it in mind that Tolland was then a part of Granville also. Where these were and how long they existed I cannot find out for sure but finally there was much pulling and hauling as to where to build a schoolhouse, and at a District meeting, Feb. 3, 17 64, the selectmen approved the location that the District had finally selected near the " Great Rock" (also near the first meeting house). This was in the general vicinity of Marion Hopper's home. In 17 69, it was voted that " Nathan Barlow, grand juror, shall appoint the times when grammar school shall be kept in each District. Something went awry there for on March 16, 1772 it was voted that "the selectmen have the whole business of the schools in Granville as to teachers, times, places and money for the ensuing year 11 • As to where the schools stood in the importance of things, the annual meeting of March 1774 is significant. In that year Rev. Mr. Smith received 55 lbs, schools 40 lbs. and all other town expenses 25 lbs! Finally, in 1797, a town school committee of three was chosen. They were Dr. Timothy Cooley in the East Parish, who held the job for 50 years, John Phelps, lawyer and later High Sheriff of the County who lived where Mr. and Mrs. Hills do now, in Middle Parish and Bela Scoville in West Parish now Tolland. This was the first indication of any order in the school system and a great advancement. After a few more years the Committee consisted of the Pasters of each Parish: Rev. Timothy Cooley, Rev. Aaron Booge, and Rev. Roger Harrison and affairs were conducted in a more systematic and methodical manner. They were the first to define the districts which had increased from six in 1763 to thirteen in 1802. In East Parish were five--Meeting House, South Lane, North Lane, Northeast and Southeast. In Middle Parish were also five-- Ore Hill, Beech Hill, Capt. Barnes, North Lane and South Lane. In West Parish were three, Meeting House, Northeast and Northwest. Southwest Quarter was established in April 1806, and Northwest in May 1806. On �L i L, ' ' ' I L ' I ' I L ' L r i L ! I 'I L. r I L r i_ I I L., November 7, 1808, Ore Hill divided and South Lane was formed. On April 3, 1815 Stowe district was set off. School enrollment declined to 403 in 1846 and by 1857 it was 267. They were all between four and sixteen years of age. There was always much argument about how tax money for the schools should be divided-- on April 4, 1825 it was voted "to distribute the school money to each district pro rata for the children in attendance May first from four to sixteen years old" and it was voted to take a school census. More and more order was coming out of chaos! How much money was involved? In 1836, it was $500.00 and in 1838 it was voted that all this amount was to be for teachers salaries. This being merely a manifestation of the old desire of the taxpayers to force the school districts to pay part of their own expenses and the desire of the districts to get all of their expenses out of town money. Money was not the only problem. Wood was the only fuel and a vital necessity. In 1806, it was voted to raise $16.00 for wood at a dollar per cord for Ore Hill(sounds like a bit of inflation was around then too). In 1811, it was voted "to get 1/2 cord to each scholar and to draw for the getting of the wood". Further it was voted that 11 if 1/ 2 cord per scholar was not enough then the Committee was to get the rest". Questions arose as to quality, etc. of the wood furnished so that, after a time, a committee was chosen to inspect the wood and see that it conformed to the bid--right amount, right length. etc. In 1824, Northeast districts was. bid off at 75¢ per cord. In 1826, it had to be furnished by the parents of the pupils--3/4 cord per "scholar" and if they fell short of their quota the value of what was missing was added to their school tax. Pity the father of a large family! In 1831, it was bid off for 59¢ per cord and in 1857 at 45¢, quite different from 1806. There were usually two terms per year--summer and winter, and their length depended on the amount of money at hand. The winter term was usually 3 or 4 months long, generally beginning the first Monday in November. In 1824, it was voted to use 2/3 of the available money for the winter term and to have a summer term to last as long as the money held out. In 1830, it was voted to hire a "school dame 11 • Lady teachers had not been popular up until then and especially for the winter term, though one was hired for that term in 1837-1838. In the summer, boys especially were needed at home on the farm, but in the winter they attended sometimes to the age of twenty or more and it was thought only a man could handle the situation. In early days, teachers were just out of grammar school themselves. In 1873, Annie Hull, the first Normal School graduate to be hired in town taught the upper room of the school which stood where Alice Peterson lives now. More and more were hired as time went by. In 1904, Emma Fisher, a �graduate of Smith College came to teach at Ore Hill. She received $10.00 per week. She became a life long friend of my mother and died in Newfane, Vermont about four years ago at the age of 101! She was a fountain of knowledge about all of Nature--she knew flowers, birds, animals--I learned quite a lot from her myself, always having been a lover of such things myself. The pay these teachers received for their labors is interesting. For example in 1834, Northeast paid William Baker $37.00 for three months. In 1846 a man teacher received $3.00 a week. In 1847, he received $1.75 per week for twenty weeks in summer, plus $6.95 for board--(a grand sum of almost $0.35 per week!) In 1848, it was voted that the teacher board about the district Sabbaths and through the term and have no bill brought against the town. It was quite usual for the 11 Boarding Around" to be in the homes of the pupils. Some of the old records of the committees are interesting--original in spelling and crystal clear in meaning. In 1837 voted "to repair the school house and make church repairs as they shall think proper. We argued this meeting for weeks." Vandalism raised its ugly head a bit way back then, though not at todays rate. In 1839 it was voted that "if any scholar shall be detected in cutting the bleachers in the schoolhouse, his parents of guardian shall pay 25¢ damages." It was not a deterrent however! How well I remember desks at Ore Hill and in the Southwest school near the old C.C.C. camp which my father took down about 1922 or thereabouts. They bore many carvings, especially initials made with some students prized jack knife! The town, for many years did not furnish books. Parents equipped their children with such books as 1.h.u thought necessary. There was no uniformity and as Mr. Wilson writes, more varieties of textbooks than there were colors in Joseph's coat! Our attic bore mute witness to this custom, old readers, spellers, etc. Probably most belonged to my great great Aunt Anna Barlow who no doubt was in school by 1806. In 1840 there were supposedly 65 pupils in Ore Hill district, probably with at least three books apiece. Some teachers think they have it hard today even though most of them have teachers aides and special classes, but that old system certainly was food for an Excedrin headache! In my day books were furnished but the teacher might have nine grades in one room so that was no picnic either! Well, one by one the old one roomers went out of existence and in January 1934, the new school opened on Maple Street in East Parish. It cost $31,147.69. The highest salary paid a teacher that year was $1,282.50. West Granville continued with Ore Hill with 17 pupils and South Lane with 15. They began to think about a new school too and after much discussion and �: I ,1 L I L~ i L i i L__, r L : L. ' I t r- ' L i argument, somewhat rem1mscent of earlier days, their new school opened in West Granville Village about 1936 at a cost of $18,172.76. Tolland now a town in its own right, no longer has a school of its own and transports all its children to Southwick -- a long distance! Today Granville's last two schools serve the town well but now there is talk of a Regional School. I for one, am heartily in disfavor of it. I have seen in my 68 years much proof of what happens when the Federal Government becomes involved in state, city, and town affairs. There are abundant promises and very little follow through. Today there is a lot of fuss about students entering College who cannot read, spell or figure. Supposedly they have had a much more superior education than I did. I don't agree. I know my failings but I have been able to read, spell and do my multiplication tables for almost as long as I can remember--about 57 years. All of them have stood me in good stead. Those old one room schools were way ahead of a lot of our present institutions of learning. Granted, we didn't have what I call " extracurricular" and what the present generation considers "necessary'' activities but I didn't miss them. If we wanted those it was up to our parents to provide them. We got the basics and that is what, in my own lifetime, has paid off most. I don't stay awake nights worrying about what is going to happen to education next. But I wonder about what will happen to my grandchildren and future generations if nuclear warfare doesn't put an end to our entire civilization. I am glad I am going to miss out on all of it with any luck at all! Leona A. Clifford �-~------------------------ May 1981 Long Ago Days The first dandelions have appeared on our lawn. Local gardens are being plowed and harrowed for planting. Baby chick and piglets are on folk's minds. The seed catalogs have been well checked and this year's chosen are ordered. All of these things have been going on for more years that I care to remember and then some! That hasn't changed very much, but there is a big difference in the way we eat now and the way we did then. In the past days almost everything was eaten only "in season" As I remember it. Looking forward to those different seasons was one of the greatest joys of living. Nothing beats pleasurable anticipation,---sometimes it is better than what was actually being looked forward to. Now-a-days my sister and I hop in the car and go to town to one of the big food chain stores to get our weekly supply of groceries. There, if one is so inclined, they can buy almost every kind of food they have ever heard of and possibly quite a few that they haven't, in or out of season, from all over the world. Once home again, perishables go into the freezer or the refrigerator and we proceed to eat better than I think Kings did of old, for another week. In my long ago days cold weather was the season for lots of meat and summer was vegetable time. My father always bought two baby pigs in early May and butchered them just before Christmas when the weather became cold enough for the meat to keep. Sometimes he butchered a beef and we kept a quarter of that while neighbors bought the rest. Our old "back pantry", which I was told was once the "cheese room".---most old farms had them and I hope you remember that I once told you of the cheese that was once shipped from town---, would be brimming with fresh meat and a bit later with ham, bacon, and sausage. We had hens year round who went into the pot as soon as their laying days began to wane. We never kept them years on end for a new crop of pullets came along every year. Sometimes a rooster might join them. I remember in particular one real mean one that did! You could boot him clear across the hen house and he would return like a charging bull! He was much better eating than he was acting! Down in the cellar my folks always had several huge crocks. some were for brining hams, bacon, ribs, and so forth, but two held that old-time country peoples stand by----salt pork. It was a STAPLE. Besides being sliced, scalded, dipped in flour and fried until crisp and golden brown, and served along with plenty of boiled potatoes and milk gravy made with the drippings, (it is still one of my favorite meals) it was used in frying fish or liver or most anything else that was to be fried, and in cooking most kinds of vegetables, It was cooked with a New England Boiled dinner of cabbage, carrots, and whatever else you might like to throw in the pot. In the fall mother often added thick slices of rutabaga. It was cooked with baked beans and string beans, and with all sorts of "greens" wild or tame, from the first dandelions through cowslips, milkweeds, beet greens, cabbage, swiss chard, or whatever, it Made the dish. - - �[ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ We used pounds of it and had never heard of cholesterol. Grandpa Nelson lived to 86, my father to 89, and my mother to 93 ! Not one of them ever had a heart attack. We made our own lard too, for pie crust, frying doughnuts, and all sorts of baking. Of course when warm weather came we had to start buying it, but our supply usually held out until then. Like potato chips you couldn't eat just one! I can distinctly remember overdoing it now and again but it never cured me of liking them. When next years batches rolled around I was as eager as ever--ready and waiting. Of course in summer we could have such things as cod fish or dried beef gravy. I can also remember having salt mackerel and salt salmon. Sometimes mother freshened large pieces of codfish, dipped it in flour and browned it in pork fat. It was then put in a deep dish covered liberally with milk gravy made from the drippings. Sometimes she added small pieces of it that had been freshened to a large amount of scrambled eggs. Once in a while, if we went to town, we could have fresh meat for Sunday dinner, or my uncles, coming from Connecticut for the week end might bring fresh meat or fish---usually a whole one that my mother steamed and served with plenty of melted butter. However, by the large, most summer meals were the vegetables from my father's superb garden. What could taste better than a meal of fresh picked sweet corn, along with a platter of potato salad, garnished with hardboiled eggs, plenty of hot sliced, buttered beets and large dishes of fresh tomatoes, peeled, cut into chunks and dressed with sugar and a little vinegar. We always ate them that way, Mother made boiled salad dressing but when I was little I had never heard of mayonnaise. When Hellmans made its first appearance at one of ou:r church suppers, thanks to my dear old friend, the late Josie Barnes, I immediately resolved that when I grew up and kept house I would have plenty of that and I did and still do. I have a memory of coming home from a long hot exhausting day of picking high bush blue berries for a neighbor and finding this supper waiting---a large bowl of Kentucky Wonder green beans boiled with plenty of salt pork scrapes, another of mashed summer squash, liberally buttered, (there was always plenty of milk, butter, cream, and sometimes cottage cheese) new potatoes boiled in their skins and a dish of sliced cucumbers just off the vine. There was plenty of home made bread, or, sometime, Johnny cake or hot biscuits, and a pitcher of the best and coldest water in the world from the well in the yard. It seems to me, looking back, that no supper, before or since, ever tasted so good! I don't remember the desert but we always had some and I ate my share, though today I almost never do. Mother sometimes spread layer cakes with whipped cream. Once in awhile a bit of cocoa was added. Sometimes she whipped egg whites very stiff and added mashed strawberries or raspberries and frosted with that. These had to be eaten up at one sitting, as they wouldn't keep. That didn't hurt anyone's feelings! All desert wasn't cake however. Her list was practically endless. Now-a-days I can sit down any day of the year and have a meal of fresh meat or seafood with fresh vegetables of all kinds---anything you want to name. As always one of my favorite pastimes is enjoying a good meal but none of them can hold a candle to the ones we had long ago. I can remember coming home from Ore Hill School when I was real small and smelling the first batch of �dandelions of the year cooking on the old kitchen range. (School got out at four P.M. in those days and we dawdled home). We probably had some of the aforementioned Johnnycake with them. In case it seems to me I would never survive until suppertime. I was starving! There is a line from some poem, "Make me a child again, just for tonight." I really wouldn't want to live through another lifetime, given the present condition of the world in general, but I would gladly go back if I could have one of my Mother's old time feasts again! Leona A. Clifford �[ [ June 1981 Long Ago Days [ [ [ May is the month when we remember our veterans and our mothers. This is as it should be. The first have so far succeeded in keeping our country the best place in the world in which to live, and the latter brought us into it, by birth or otherwise. Now June is again upon us and Fathers Day. I am going to write this article about them for not a single one of us would be here unless we had one, but we don t seem to hear much about them. Mothers seem to have stolen the show as it were! I guess I'm prejudiced when it comes to fathers because from the first moment that I remembered mine I adored him. There has never been or ever will be a day in my life that I do not think of him and what he has meant to me, nor one in which I do not thank the good Lord that he was mine. My father was George Henry Aldrich, and he was born in Danby in the state of Vermont, May 10, 1865, the youngest of 8 children. His parents were Isaac & Harriet Richardson Aldrich and his father was a stone mason. Therefore, they did a lot of moving from job to job and daddy once named off something like 21 places they lived while he was growing up. Finally, moving on a cold windy day, his father contracted pneumonia and died within a very few hours, leaving my dad at 15, the sole support of a mother, no longer very young. Other brothers and sisters were by then either married and gone or they had also died. Life was hard then and money was scarce The first money he ever earned was by picking up potatoes as they were dug at harvest time. He worked from practically day-light until dark, and he received a grand total of 25 ¢. He was ill proud of that quarter that he said, tired as he was, he ran home as fast as he could to tell his parents of his great good fortune. He was 12 years old!. Most available jobs in the country-side back then consisted of farm work for neighbors or in lumbering operations, although for a short while he fired the boiler on one of the railroad trains on a 11 n.arrow gauge 11 line from Brattleboro to Londonderry, Vt. The fuel was wood and, until the day he died his back and shoulders bore the scars of burns he received from hot cinders everytime he had to stoke the boiler. In his early 20 s he had an operation. for appendicitis on the kitchen table at home. He survived but was not able to do hard jobs for a spell so his uncle got him a job in a shoe shop in Keene, N.H. While there he learned enough about shoe construction so that he was always able to sole & heel our shoes, and he had the equipment for it, some of which we still have. For what you might call hobbies, he learned to trap for furs, to play the 1 [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ 1 11 [ [ [ 11 �fiddle for old time dances, and through a correspondence course from the Kodak camera Co. in Rochester, N. Y. he learned to take, develop & print pictures. I still have the lesson pamphlets they sent to him. By that time he was living in Grafton, Vt., where he did quite a business with all sorts of photographs & postcard scenes of the surrounding countryside, which he sold in the town stores. I wonder how many people today would put in those old time long hours, (no 8-hour shifts and 40-hour weeks in those days) and then tend trap lines or hop into a carriage or sleigh, as the weather demanded and travel, in many cases long miles to play for a dance that lasted into the wee hours, so that sometimes a breakfast was served as the dance ended. Then came another long trip home and another days work! I think my father enjoyed that part of his life though. I have as mementos of those days, a couple of printed dance programs and a beautiful shawl that his "best girl" knitted for him to bundle up in on his winter trips. He played the fiddle and prompted while his nephew accompanied him, usually on a pump type parlor organ. In 1890, his mother died and he decided it was time to hunt greener pastures. He had worked in Springfield, Ma. about 1888 for his brother Albert, who ran a bakery on Spring St. I have a good picture of this bakery with the whole family including the pet dog standing in front. He learned to make pies and made all they sold. He also made pulled molasses, and cream candy which they also sold. We still have his candy marble used for cooling the candy before it was pulled. He made it for us now and again and I thought the molasses kind, when finished, was one of the prettiest things I had ever seen, with an undescribable sheen and delicious taste. ill, he came down again to this area. He worked for Samuel Bodurtha in Agawam, doing general farm work and peddling milk. At that time the large cans of milk, along with various measuring devices were loaded into a wagon and each customer would come to the wagon with a pail and the milk would be measured into it and paid for. Mr. Bodurtha had married Martha Fenn, daughter of Nathan Fenn, who lived where Albert Sheets house now stands, and she had 3 brothers who lived in Meriden and worked in the clock shop there. They liked to go hunting and fishing and my dad became well acquainted with them. They knew my dad liked to trap and they told him many stories of their boyhood days in West Granville. They thought he should go out one fall and try his luck in that territory as there was a surplus of game, to the point where they were a nuisance, and no trappers. That sounded like a good idea, but "Where?," he asked, "would I live?" They advised him to to write to their old neighbor, Major Nelson, which he did, and grandpa wrote back that he would board • ' 7 1 I �I I I 'L I ,-----, I i ' L_~ : I I L_, ,-1 L. ' L ' L i i L, him, and he knew he would be welcome to trap anything anywhere abouts, except his daughter! Well we know how that turned out! I am glad it did, although earning a living on grandpa's old farm was no picnic either. My father passed from this world April 7, 1953. He was within a few days of being 89. He was kind, friendly, and always willing to lend a hand to a neighbor. I never knew him to have an enemy of any kind in all those years. On this Father's Day, if luckily your father is still alive, stop and think what he really means to you, and tell him you love him. It will mean more to him than any gift money can buy. If like mine, he has passed on, I hope you have as many wonderful memories of him as I have of mme. Leona A. Clifford �July 1981 Long Ago Days The West Granville Church Part 1 In 1978 the Second Church of Christ in West Granville was 200 years old. This refers to the building itself, not to the church b.Q.dy which was first gathered on Nov. 18, 1781, with 28 members. They were Ebenezer, Elizabeth, Ezra & Lois Baldwin; John & Edith Bates; Aaron, Hope and Mary Coe; John and Elizabeth Cornwell; Aaron, David and Thankful Curtis; Lemuel Haynes, the black man who was pastor of the church from 1781-1786, though not ordained until 1785, and who became famous in his day. Later while preaching in Rutland, Vt., he was called the leading preacher in the state; Isabelle Miller; Marvin & Mary Moore; David & Rebecca Parsons; Timothy & Hannah Robinson; David & Achsey Rose; John & Caroline Seward; Oliver & Jane Spelman. The church, being the heart of town in those days, they were determined to have one, and so, as Mr. Wilson says in his town history, "they would build a cage and trust to luck to get a bird to put in it". The Revolutionary War was going on and I have read that the reason for having the "cage" ahead of the "bird" was because Col. Timothy Robinson, commissioned in Boston, Feb. 7, 1776, and a leader in town affairs, was off to the war and they awaited his home-coming to help get the ball rolling! Be that so or not, he was discharged that year and is no doubt true. He became a deacon at that time and remained so for many years until his death in 1805, as is noted on his gravestone in the "old part" of the West Granville cemetery. Since then at least two anniversaries have been celebrated as regards the church body. If they had a 50th one I have, so far, never found a record of it, but in Nov. 1881 they held a large reunion, according to one of mothers scrap books, which has a newspaper article of that date in it with all the details. In 1931 the 150th anniversary was held on Old Home Day, August 23rd. I was there and nineteen years old, so I remember that one, as well as having a good account of it also in mothers papers. It was a great day. Programs were printed for the occasion, and a booklet about the village and the church written by the minister, Howard E. Short, a student from the Hartford Theological Seminary, was also printed in pamphlet form and given as a souvenir to those attending. The church was decorated with large numerals made of laurel--1781 on the left front wall and 1931 on the right-as well as with many flowers. My father took a good picture of it at the time. A choir of young people under the direction of Mrs. Porter Frisbie, sang ''appropriate selections", mother played the old pump organ and Frank Laird �: L. I L_ - r L_ i L I L • ,1 L i i L___ i r I i L--, r-' I ! the trumpet. Singers were Ralph & Russell Cooley, James and Phyllis Matthews, Louise Reeves, Dorothy Goodness, and my sister, May Hague and myself. After the service most towns-people, as well as many from afar whose roots were here, attended the lunch hour in the Academy Hall. A group of musicians played several selections. This little band was composed of Frank Laird, 1st trumpet; Leona Aldrich, 2nd trumpet; Howard E. Short, trombone; George Aldrich, violin and Ruth Aldrich, piano. A great day of visiting and reminiscing was enjoyed by all, and many a visit was made to old home sites and to old friends who, for one reason or another, had not attended. Time more than flies. Over the past 50 years the now Rev. Dr. Short has had a distinguished career in his field as minister, professor, a member of the U.S. Strategic bombing Survey in World War 1, and in other directions too numerous for me to mention here. In 1958, he became editor of the "Christian Evangelist", published in St. Louis, Missouri, from which he is retired, and where he now lives with his wife, Margaret. I must add that this "retirement 11 seems to be in name only for he keeps busy worldwide. A few years ago he wrote that he had visited 45 countries, fifty states, and every Canadian province on various missions, so to speak. He and his wife will be guests and he will be the speaker at Old Home Day, July 19th, with the service being held at 11AM. He certainly will see many changes in the church and in the town since the early nineteen thirtys ! ! The "old ranks are rapidly thinning, but I hope there will be many people who can attend. Most, from away, will probably be descendants of those who came in 1931. I feel sure everyone will find it a most enjoyable day. As for me, I feel very fortunate to have been privileged to attend two of this churches anniversaries. It played a great part in my life as a child in West Granville. Leona Clifford 11 �August 1981 Long Ago Days Because of the problems with the P.A. system on July 4th, I have been asked to put my memories of that holiday in the Country Caller, so here goes. Part II of the West Granville Church later! First, I would like to say that I considered it a privilege to be asked to introduce the guests of honor, Granville's two longest married couples. Mr. & Mrs. Paul Hayden, 68 years, and Mr. & Mrs. Edward Jensen Sr., 64 years. I certainly congratulate them and wish them many more happy years together, as I am sure everyone else does. Next, Butsy Boughton and Tony Degano who made it from Mercy Hospital in Springfield and the Governors House in Westfield, respectively, and Mr. Ed Walrath whose newspaper articles we all enjoyed for so long. We hope to see you all again soon! This is a grand and glorious 4th in the 205th year of our great country's freedom. So far the Lord has smiled on us and we have had good weather for our parade. I have been asked to tell you how we celebrated this holiday in my young and not so young years, boring as I am sure it will be, especially to todays young people. I certainly don't remember the succotash and blackberry short-cake parties described in July's issue, with the West Granville people trekking down into and up out of the Great Valley to attened--a long trip then--with the cannon announcing their arrival, but, oh, I sure would have loved every minute of it! Wouldn't you! Neither do I remember any such celebration as our most capable recreation committee has put together for today. Never the less, it was a time we looked forward to. I can't remember making much of other holidays except for Christmas. I was born on the old Nelson farm in West Granville 69 years and 2 days ago. You see I made sure to arrive on time for the great day! Of course I don't remember that either and it was just as well for reasons I'll go into a bit later. While I am sure I received a warm welcome from my parents and grandparents, I heard, many times over the years, grandpa's opinion of ladies who had the audacity to have a baby in haying time and right at noon time when everyone was starving for their dinner. When mother pulled the repeat performance a year later she and dad took off for Newfane, Vermont, where my sister bowed in at my Aunt Mins and one and all waited out the storm at home! My first few days were rather rough. First, with the temperatures �~------ --- -----~--------- r .--I I L L. L : i L 1 __ r 1 L~ ' I I I L~ ' I L~ r I L ' I L___. ' I i L. ' L I I' ! I L- soaring, I was wrapped in a log cabin quilt that Grandma Aldrich had made for my father, and witch incidentally I ruined forever! Then I was bathed and encased in a full set of woolen clothes, long sleeved shirt, belly band, long stockings, long petticoat, and a dress. I think it was then that I got the reputation of crying a lot! The next day Sarah Yarmitsky, mother 1s old friend, then living on the Harger place, came to see the new baby. She was aghast at the clothing I wore and she stripped me down tore up an old sheet and swaddled me--tightly--. I guess mother was a bit perturbed but I lived through all of it with no memories of it, which is just as well. For many years the 4th meant summer boarders form New York, as well as the current student minister, chicken dinners, homemade ice cream, many a game of croquet--they had to be GOOD to beat mother-- and a few fireworks. The traditional dinner for the date was supposed to be fresh salmon and the first green peas from the garden, but I don t remember that we indulged. Farmers may have vied with each other as to the peas but the era when salmon ran in just about every stream in New England was long before my day. My uncle, Olin Nelson, always brought us fireworks. Most of our school mates managed a supply too. I remember the little packages of Chinese firecrackers which we unbraided, lit with a piece of punk and fired one by onetoo precious to fire the whole pack at once. We had small cones we called snakes, which, when lit , sent up a curl of grey ash. We also had plenty of sparklers for night time. Some big boys had salutes and bombs, but they were too noisy for my taste. We had cap pistols and once in a while one cap might be louder than the others and make our ears ring! One year my cousin, Wilbur Nelson brought us some railroad flares--really nice for they changed colors as they burned. We never had sky rockets, roman candles or that kind of thing-too dangerous. As young adults we might drive over to the highest point of Irish Lane-North Lane #2 to most of you--and we could watch the night displays from Holyoke to Enfield but they were to far away to be splendid. When we were old enough to get to see more modern displays I remember vividly disliking the noise and keeping my fingers in my ears most of the time. Sometimes we had fourth of July picnic on the village green. All our mothers pitched in and brought sandwiches and cakes and cookies while the Ladies Aid made coffee and lemonade. No 11 beer busts 11 in those days. Anyone needing and alcoholic stimulant chose stronger 11 fire water 11 in more or less privacy. I remember no accidents, except once when little Billy Barnes lit and threw a firecracker which didn 1t go off so he went to investigate and it �exploded in his face. It scared everyone, especially his mother and himself half to death but that was all. Some dad might undergo a lapse of memory and not show up at chore time but he got home sooner or later none the worse for wear. After all Independence Day didn't roll around but once a year! Today fireworks are illegal unless licensed, in this state and it is just as well, for while I don't personally remember any bad accidents on the 4th some terrible disasters did occur in many other places from their use. Today, as a Senior Citizen, the type of celebration we're having here today suits me to a T. Could it be that my age is showing? Leona A. Clifford C 1 �[ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ In Memory In a very short time the deaths of three persons has been a blow to our Senior Citizenry. Lester Sattler was born in Holyoke but spent the greater part of his life in Granville, married a local girl, Edith Reeves, now deceased, and was always a kind and helpful neighbor. For many years he and his brother Harold WERE the Granville State Park as its foresters. Wendell Hardy was born in Cabot, Vermont but spent almost forty years in Tolland. He carried our mail for a long time and held many offices in his town. He and his family made many friends both in Tolland and Granville. A devastating blow was the death of his son Richard, several years ago, an accomplished musician of great promise. Alice Hoskins Frisbie came from Woburn, Mass to teach school in West Granville and like many others in those days, married a local boy. Porter Frisbie, son of Nelson and Mary Frisbie, and stayed on. She was always interested and engaged in town and school affairs. She too, with her family suffered a great loss in the death of their son, Donald in World War IL Each and everyone of them is going to be sorely missed, but as one old epitaph says in the West Granville Cemetery: YEA, THEY REST FROM THEIR LABORS AND THEIR GOOD WORKS DO FOLLOW THEMl Leona A. Clifford � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Documents, Articles, Other Printed Material Description An account of the resource Documents relating to Granville history. To view a larger version of any document, click on that document, then click the image thumbnail on the document's page. You will then see a full-size image including a "zoom" function which will make reading text easier. If you have old Granville documents to add please contact the library. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource "Long Ago Days" (PART 1 of 4) by Leona A. Clifford (1912-1990), Originally Published in The Granville Country Caller Description An account of the resource "Long Ago Days" by Leona A. Clifford (1912-1990), Originally published in The Granville Country Caller between January 1980 and January 1990. When Leona Aldrich Clifford passed on in 1990, her Country Caller articles were compiled by Ralph Hiers and reprinted in book form. All these copies were sold to benefit the Granville Library Club. In April of 2000, the Granville Historical Society invited Leona's granddaughter, Darcy Clifford Cooley to talk about her Grandmother at one of their series on the history of Granville. The talk was so well received that the Society asked Teddi Daley's 6th and 7th grade media classes at the Granville Middle School to retype the articles for republication. Chris Teter, Joan Clendenin, and Tiffany Blakesley also assisted with the typing and the Granville Historical Society members assisted with the proofreading and publishing. Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource Published 1980-1990 and 2000. Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource The Granville Library Club, the Granville Historical Society and the Clifford family. May not be reproduced without permission. Granville Granville Caller Leona Clifford Long Ago Days Massachusetts West Granville https://d1y502jg6fpugt.cloudfront.net/34234/archive/files/f2ee280c2b175fc34911586c5c5dabc4.pdf?Expires=1776902400&Signature=KhOJFmkA5ahWKgEPODmyD2RHaKu4ZnxqGTxMtSElsP9Wz7zNmKy9Ybec9gS3NtBVOYXEWT8o-JnwzC0oCsy2FavfSQZb6VtrVcm0Uj0CJSNseE4uQdTIzDK%7EVcV8M2Z3ujpIvyWZQ6wQlSwFwCIZWRvcxjdcOhMI6B7UmPEI1l-4HPgU%7ErNIhbUdi4GL4IzdzvF8QqQbC7Frq3z9mbfNyRKQh8dRPavIRAef1I7juj6cWqSGrJBK71sFbQZ-t8gIHBVCxtasXJFLQ3qUixjrBdeXPdjs5RGlenRy6kN18nINNEtmSz3ikIiL6PL3dMLkJbEgd5C1d9ngTdBtJJMwCw__&Key-Pair-Id=K6UGZS9ZTDSZM 77af8dc94538d77db5b633398c29ac8b PDF Text Text September 1981 Long Ago Days This church was built in 1781 on "common land" and is the oldest church building now standing in town. Although the oldest church body was the one on Granville Hill, its first building near the " Grate Rock" (a landmark often mentioned in old records, whose exact location is unknown, but in the vicinity of the Regan Rd) is long gone, having been some time before Dec. 1750, " by the Providence of God, consumed by fire. " Another was in use by the above date but survived but 52 years, at which time one record says it was taken down and in 1802 the present building, now the Historical Society was erected. It is approximately, therefore, 24 years younger than West Granvilles. At first the W. Granville church stood near the road and faced East. It was no doubt a very plain barn-like affair with no steeple, bell, heat, etc., in fact not one of the comforts we expect in our houses of worship today. It is a wonder to me, with a war going on that they were able to build anything! Money was as scarce as hens teeth and times were hard not only then but for some time after the war ended. Since that day, thirty full time pasters have served this parish, as well as a dozen or so part time ministers, mostly students from the Hart ford Theological Seminary, and one, the Rev. Joel Baker, 1797-1833 is buried here. The beautiful old house, which stood in my childhood where Richard Bruno's now stands, was his home. He preached for 36 years and was much beloved by his parishioners, which happy circumstance did not always prevail. As I know of no personage as such, 1797 and after 1833, the Joel Baker place having been sold to the Sheppard family, I expect each minister lived where he could until after the Rev. Austin Gardner came in 1860. Around that time the present home of Mrs. Helen Owens was purchased from one, Samuel Colton, and remained the parsonage until after the last full time minister, George Damon, the first one I remember, left in 1918. Later it was sold to the late Mr. & Mrs. Porter Frisbie for a home. My grandparents, Major & Francena Reed Nelson were the first couple married in the new parsonage by the Rev. Gardner, with his wife as witness, town records not with-standing. From 1918 on, services were held mostly in summer by supplies from other parishes and by student ministers. The last of those was the Rev. William Booth since then for many years a missionary in South Africa. He is now retired from the Congregational Church in Bar Harbor, Maine where he and his family still live. All of the student ministers boarded with my mother and father and many dear and lasting friendships developed with these �' ' L__, i L_ ' r L ,· i I I L. 1' I L l. ,... I ,... ' L I ..__ '' r L i I L- i i i I L- "Boys". One of them, the late Walter Couch always addressed his letters to my mother in later years as Mrs. Geo. Aldrich, M.M. When finally asked about it he said it stood for "Mother of Ministers" Things have now boiled down, as it were, to a very few evening services in good weather, plus the annual Old Home Day and Special Christmas service. Like a good many others in small towns this church has lost ground- much of it in my lifetime and it is a pity for the building, in good condition, was beautifully restored for the Bi-Centennial in 1976. Two periods of extensive alterations have occurred. At some time, probably during the pastorate of the Rev. Seth Chapin, 1833-1835, the building was moved. It was swung one-quarter way around to face South, and back to its present location. This major undertaking required 100 pairs of oxen! The steeple was added and a bell installed in it at this time. About the same time, one John Kent was hired as sexton. He rang the bell, swept the floors and built the fires, (so a stove or possibly two, had been installed) for $18.00 per year. During the pastorate of Rev. Henry Coolidge, 1903-1907, again extensive repairs and alterations were made at a cost of about $700.00. The side gallerys were removed and the floor raised to its present level from its old level with the foyer. Steps then had to be installed to the sanctuary. New upholstered seats and new carpets were purchased. At some time the side "towers" were added and the beautiful memorial window of Rev. T. 0. Rice was moved from the south front wall to its present location behind the pulpit. Its old framing is still to be seen over the front doors on the outside of the church. Pretty side memorial windows were also installed. Francis Cooley, son of Mr. and Mrs. Noah Cooley, (he once ran the W. Granville Store) whose names are on two of the windows, was the donor of a new organ and $250.00 towards expenses. Today there is a beautiful electric organ and a set of bells given by Mrs. Bert Hill in memory of her mother, which are played either manually or by tapes on important occasions and certainly add a great deal to them. In the back of the sanctuary, the rear gallery now partitioned off, once held the remains of the old Dickinson Library, a private affair, now defunct. When I was a child only, two of three old members were still alive. This year I discovered that all that remains today are the bookshelves. All the books have been removed. There were some interesting(to me), old hymnals with just words and no music, as well as some sets such as Shakespeare, and story books of a more or less Victorian type! Most were in such fine print that they were just about unreadable, even to my excellent eyesight, but I tried now and again. Up there one also went to ring the church bell with the long rope �coming down from the belfry. After a time this bell was no longer rung, the whole structure which held it being considered unsafe, so the one in the academy was used. At the time of the early 1900s renovations, the church was granted the use of the old Academy Hall next door(and a story in itself) for a parish hall and soon afterwards Mr. Nelson Frisbie built on the addition now used as a kitchen. In my mother's day the kitchen, such as it was, was all part of the main hall. Membership in this church has suffered, as it has in many other places. It went from the original 28 in 1781 to 124 in 1804, thence back to 36 in the early thirtys, at which number it seems still to remain. In olden days the church provided most of the social life of the community. There were morning and evening services, Sunday School and weekly prayer meetings. Quite often these were held in the various homes when I was small and to most of them we traveled on foot. There were church suppers, usually baked beans, with lots of Grandma Nelsie Sheets homemade rolls and homemade butter--these cost 10¢! The outstanding ones were the Oyster supper in the spring and the Chicken Pie supper in the fall. For a while dances were held after the suppers every two weeks with my dad doing the fiddling and prompting and my mother playing the piano. After a while I learned to fill in on that. How we did look forward to these occasions and it was a disaster, if for any reason we had to miss one! The automobile has been to blame, in great part, for the " downfall" of many small country churches. Today people moving into town come from all areas and all faiths. They can easily commute, not only to work but to the church of their choice. It is also apparent that many people choose not to attend any church! However I am glad that this old church in which five generations of my family worshiped as best they could, ·is still there and in beautiful condition. It has served the community long and well, especially m the past, and who knows but that in days to come it may rise again as Phoenix from the ashes!! Leona A. Clifford �r L. October 1981 [ [ [ [ r l r l, [ l, [ [ [ [ r I L , Long Ago Days I have in my possession a dance program for one of the many dances my father played for in Vermont almost 100 years ago. He told me they often had such programs for dances following their oyster suppers and Grange and other Lodge dances. On it are listed Schottisches, Polkas (heel and toe variety), Quadrilles, Contra dances, Waltzes, etc. It was a far cry from anything I ever saw in my lifetime except for the Senior and Junior Proms I went to at the High School I attended in East Hartford, Connecticut, and their programs listed an entirely different variety of dances except for a waltz or two. Fifty years has dimmed my memory on the subject somewhat, and if I kept any of them, they are long gone. My Grandpa Nelson considered many things, especially in the form of entertainment, such as dancing, playing cards and so on as sinful. In fact, he 11 bribed 11 his three oldest children with gold watches as they reached their twenty-first birthdays if they would shun such activities and also never smoke or drink. Somehow mother never got a watch--she lived with him until the end of his life, and after, so he could keep and eye on her! I give the others credit for they kept the promises they made him for their lifetime. Sometimes when we were little, he would arise from his chair and show us how to do the Schottische and Polka. I remember asking him on how come he didn't let his children dance and he replied that he had tried it as a youth and found out it led to evil! I suppose that went for the other things he considered sins too. Well, in any case he sure knew how to 11 cut the light fantastic 11 , and very well too. He may have thought it wrong that daddy and mother played for dances a lot, and that my sister and I learned to dance at very early ages, but I never remember that he said anything about it. It brought them in, for those days, quite a bit of extra money, and I am sure he favored that! As for me, it was one of my favorite pastimes. When I was young, 11 1 could have danced all night 11 , as the old song went. How I hated to see midnight roll around! Then we had to go home. We never missed the dances in West Granville, Granville and Tolland, and quite often Albert Sheets and his wife, Lucy, and daughter Alice (now Peterson), would take us to the Fireman's Hall in Otis where we danced to the music of Sammy Spring. Once in a while, I got to his dances at Eastern States in the Storrowtown barn, and to Newgate Prison. I couldn't get enough of it and I was fortunate that I married a "dancing man". Dennis loved music and dancing and was exceptionally good at it. He said I was too good at it-always tried to lead, which upset him a bit. He got his love of it from his mother, I believe. Grandma Bridget Clifford could dance the old Irish jigs and �reels with the best of them until she was an old lady. To regress--when we were young, we went to the church suppers and dances every two weeks along with our parents. As little children, we kept awake as long as possible and then joined the other little ones in the dining tables which had been stacked in the kitchen, one with its legs down and the other on top with its legs up--a natural crib !--where we slept the rest of the time. That ended shortly however, and we began to learn to dance. The late Fred Frisbie, son of Nelson and May Frisbie, taught me a lot about square dancing. He may have gotten real tired of me asking him to dance with me but he was a good sport and always followed through! The late Andrew Duris, Sr. held a few sessions at the Academy Hall to teach us round dancing. We had a wind-up victrola and he marked out the steps to the waltz on the floor with chalk. He also taught us to fox-trot. He was a marvelously smooth dancer himself and I liked to watch him. In those days, Joseph Kucznicki lived where Henry Turner does now. He married Polly Sermyszen of Tolland and when they did what my father called the old-fashioned German waltz, everybody watched them. At one time, when I was about thirteen, we had a lot of kitchen dances. I remember going to the Farnham house on Beech Hill, which is now gone, to Austin Phelon s, Charles Treat1s where we danced in the big barn, now belonging to Mr. Bliss. We danced at the Brunk place in Tolland which has just been torn down and a pity, for· it supposedly was built by one of Tolland s first settlers, Thomas Hamilton. That family came, it is said, from Martha s Vineyard and how they ever found Tolland, or Granville as it was in those days, I would like to know! One time when several relatives of my fathers were visiting us from Vermont we had a 11 family1 1 dance in our own kitchen. In the last 50 years, dancing has changed a great deal--the Charleston, Black Bottom Boogie Woogie, Mashed Potato, Twist, and now Disco. People seem not to dance together so much anymore. Now they cover the floor alone, each doing his or her own thing I try it once in awhile but it1s not the same. I think it was more fun by far to cuddle up if you will, with my sweetheart and dance. I know now that my dancing days are about over, but I enjoy all the wonderfully pleasant memories of so many occasions way back when I could have danced all night It was my favorite pastime. I hope there will be a good dance band in the hereafter! Leona Clifford 1 1 1 11 11 • 11 11 , 11 11 • �November 1981 : i l_ L I I L I L ' r1 L. ' I 'L_. ' L rj I L__, Long Ago Days "Being an account of the 100th celebration of the gathering of the first church body of the Congregational Church in West Granville, November 18, 1881". This is from the scrapbook of Benjamin Jones who lived where Ernie Sattler does now. He collected much interesting information about the town and at his death bequeathed scrapbook and all to my father. I still have them. This was a bit odd for my father had no connections with West Granville, being a Vermonter by birth, but Benjamin took a liking to him and William Jones, Benjamin's son, who lived in Pittsfield by the time I remembered him, visited my father on a pretty regular basis as long as he lived. "Friday, November 18th was a joyous occasion in the west parish of the good old town of Granville, which has given birth to so many noted men and devoted women. The church, "set on a hill", whose light has been shining for a hundred years, celebrated that day, its centennial. At early dawn, the church bell was rung by Mr. James Goodwin, who, with 100 strokes, announced the completion of the century. At half past ten A.M., a fellowship meeting was held, and despite the unpropitious weather, a goodly number were present, including delegations from other places. The church was beautifully decorated by the ladies, and Miss Melvina Terrett, Miss Kate Terrett, and Mis$ Goodwin are to be complimented on their taste and skill. Above the pulpit were the figures 1781 and 1881, and the words, in large letters, arranged by Mr. James Goodwin, "In everything, give thanks". Underneath was an anchor and the words, "Be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee a crown of life 11 • On one side of the church was the motto, "Simply to Thy cross I Cling", on the other, "Faith, Hope and Charity". At half-past twelve, refreshments were served by the Ladies Benevolent Society. At two o'clock, the centennial services were held, consisting of reading selections of Scripture by the new pastor, Rev. Lyman Warner, singing by the choir, under the leadership of Deacon George H. Atkins and Goodwin G. Treat, prayer and an historical address by the pastor. Letters were also read from Rev. Austin Gardner of Birmingham, Connecticut, Rev. Augustus Alvord of Prescott, Massachusetts, Deacon L. W. Shepard of West Springfield, and Mr. Frank Cooley of Hartford, Connecticut, and remarks were made by Deacon G. H. Atkins, Deacon E. P. Jones of East Hartland, Connecticut, and Mr. Stephen Roberts of East Granville. Deacon Atkins referred to the late Deacon George W. Shepard, who was elected deacon in 1837 and held that office for twenty-eight years. He also spoke of Rev. Lemuel Haynes, the first acting pastor of the church and of the old house of Deacon Rose on Liberty hill, the only mark of �which in now the old cellar hole. Mention was also made of Deacon James Spelman. Deacon Jones spoke too in high terms of Deacon Shepard, referring to his honesty and integrity in business transactions. He knew him when employed in the postal service for 18 years, star routes not being in vogue in those days. Mr. Roberts urged the necessity of encouraging every member of the church in the Christian life, and looking after any that might be missing from the fold. All separated with the wish that the bicentennial of the church might be as pleasantly celebrated as had been its centennial. What with its new pastor, its rejuvenated church and parsonage and its united people, West Granville ought to be happy, enjoy itself religiously, and be at peace with all the world, "and the rest of mankind". At this point, an able and interesting address was given by the new and popular pastor, Rev. Lyman Warner. As it is far too lengthy to copy, I will only say that he took note of the long line of pastors who had served the parish faithfully and well. He mentioned that, "of the deacons of the church as far as I know, only good can be said". He referred to the Ohio migration and its members who formed the First Congregational Church in Charleston, Ohio. He told of the "precious seasons of revival, in which more than two hundred, as the fruits, have been added to its membership". The Rev. Dr. Timothy Cooley related in regard to this parish: "With a population less than seven hundred, one had become a member of Congress, one a judge of the Superior Court and as many as fourteen have entered the office of the Christian Ministry". The address ended on the following: 11 The springs from these hills and these valleys have not failed to furnish the cool, sparkling water, to refresh the thirsty, since our ancestors first chose this region for their home. The hills have become less in size as the storms have beat upon their sides, and the floods have borne their richness down towards the great sea; so this church has been growing less as the stream of time has been bearing one or another of its members down to the shoreless ocean of eternity. What the future may have in store for this church is known only to Him who knows all things, and whose love for his people remains from age to age. To His care we may safely leave this church believing that He who first planted it, and has watched over and prospered and preserved it during the century that is past, can still preserve and prosper it for the century to come. 11 NOTES: James Goodwin lived where Mrs. Hill does now. For many years, his wife's picture hung in Academy Hall. She was a dedicated member of the church and all its associations. A few years ago, it was given to her grandson, Franklin Mallison of Pittsfield, Massachusetts. The Miss Goodwin of the decorating committee was his mother. ' 7 �[ [ [ [ [ George Atkins lived on the State Forest Road where Lester Sattler lived when he was forester but moved to Amherst, Massachusetts. While he lived, he never missed Old Home Day. Goodwin Treat was Richard Bruno's and Gilbert Earl Miller's great-greatgrandfather and lived in the ancient house that stood where Richard Bruno's now does. The Terretts lived in a beautiful house, long gone, on the east side of South Lane #2 just north of Rose Copeland. Malvina Terrett 1s son often accompanied Willie Jones on his visits to my dad but his last name escapes me. They both lived in Pittsfield where Willie was a locksmith all of his life. Leona A. Clifford 11 [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ 11 �--- ~------------~---- December 1981 Long Ago Days Whatever happened to the good old-fashioned Christmas season when money wasn't the King, when one could walk the city streets in safety and TV wasn't reminding you for hours on end that STYLE was what was most irnportant--buy a Cadillac. That "jeans" (overalls to us) with some "in" designer's name plastered across the rear end was the .Q1liY way to go. That if you didn't buy the kids a set of electronic games for the "boobtube" they would surely feel deprived! You hardly dare buy your srnallfry anything because you can't afford what they have asked Santa Claus for. It is pretty frustrating. There is really very little true Christmas Spirit today. People seem to remember less and less that the whole purpose of our Christmas is to remind us of God's greatest gift to us, Jesus Christ. And that our gifts to each other were meant in the beginning as reminders of that fact. When we were children, scurryin_g around buying small gifts--(we certainly weren't in the Neirnann Marcus class)--for each member of the family it was the most exciting time-of-the whole year. Helpful salespeople waited on you and total strangers smiled at you and the whole world was wishing everyone a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. It seemed certain that both were entirely possible. Ho! Ho! Ho! We managed to accumulate enough small change as children to buy gifts for Grarnpa and Daddy and Marna and each other. We learned very early that one could find the most desirable gifts in our price range in Woolworth Five and Ten Cent Store. If we didn't make that, there was always good old reliable Sears Roebuck or Montgomery Wards catalog to depend on. We could buy Grandpa a bit of cut plug chewing tobacco in his favorite brand or some Canada pepperrnints--(his favorite which he also shared with us, one by one, when he thought we deserved it). There were plenty of work socks and bandana handkerchiefs that we just knew Daddy wanted more than anything. We could get Marna any kind of fancy dish for a dime, or a big box of writing paper for twenty-five cents. There were handkerchiefs for her too, the best ones all embroidered or, best of all, bearing her initial. There were all kinds of games, books, puzzles and my favorite, paper dolls,_ on hand for a pittance! They sure helped while away many a long winter country evening! The gifts we received were apt to be few and useful compared to today's expensive short-lived junk, but what a thrill it was to open each one to find new books and games--Uncle Wiggly and Authors come to mind-stockings, mittens and so on. Once mother had her niece knit us each a heavy �[ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ pullover sweater. Mine was red and lasted forever and I loved it. My cousin, Will Porter, sent us each a tiny silver mesh purse one year but such prizes didn't appear every year. There was always a bit of money from Grandpa too. I expect he considered his offering a magnificent gift and so did we. I feel sure that in his motherless childhood in a large poor family Christmas, as we knew it, was just non-existent (circa 1850-1860). Before we fell heirs to all this munificence there was the school Christmas tree and the one at Sunday School. The first was usually held on the last day before vacation in the afternoon. Some of the bigger boys would get a nice hemlock tree and we would trim it as best we could. We made many paper chains from colored paper and strung popcorn garlands. Some people strung cranberries but I never remember doing that. They grew on our farm but we ate every one! What few 11 boughten 11 trimmings were used were furnished by our parents or the teacher and I don't remember many of those. Tree lights were nonexistent, electricity in our town becoming a reality in 1930, and we were about to graduate from-high school then. There were candles but they were far too dangerous and I never saw any on any trees, anywhere. I am sure that nowadays those trees would appear pretty drab to the present generation but we thought them absolutely gorgeous, and they smelled so nice! We each received a small gift from our teacher--! remember getting pencils with my name on once ... Time dims the memory of many gifts on those occasions. Every pupil drew a name and brought a gift for that child, and we each bought one for the teacher. There was a decision of the greatest magnitude! She had to have the best we could afford. Again we resorted to handkerchiefs, pretty soap, 11 toilet water 11 , or writing paper, much as we did for mama. In those days, with most teachers in our town being far from home, and not getting there often, writing paper was doubtless the most useful. Before we "had the tree 11 there would be a small entrainment of songs, poems, and skits for the assembled invited guests--our parents--in the most cases our mothers--who always came, not yet having been caught up in the business world of 11 nine to five 11 but only the home world of before daylight until after dark! The Sunday School festivities followed the annual free Christmas church supper--an annual event in West Granville for many years. Everyone who came brought their tastiest food and everyone who attended partook of it. We didn't have to pay the 10¢, later 25¢ that we did at the other suppers. The men set up a very large tree in the church and again there were the usual carols, recitations and plays appropriate to the occasion, portraying the Nativity, the flight into Egypt, etc. I remember feeling a little proud and a lot scared to be part of these 11 entertainments 11 • I remember the time that the late �Lena Yarmitsky Hunter, who was probably home from high school at the time appearing on stage and singing a special carol, 0 Tannenbaum. I only remember the tune but I had never heard it before. I was deeply impressed. It was life having a visiting celebrity would be today--pretty special. As all this was coming to an end we would hear the jingle of approaching sleigh bells and the stamping of boots and down the aisle came jolly old Santa Claus. He distributed the gifts the Sunday School had purchased for each child in town (regardless as they say today, of race, color or creed). He asked if we had been good and minded our parents, and been kind to our brothers and sisters. I feel sure that many faint white lies issued from our little mouths at that point! Who could admit they had been a real little devil with old Santa standing there holding the most fascinating gift that was going to be ours if we convinced him that we had almost gotten to the point of sprouting wings in the year just past! As the tree became bared of presents off he went with a "Merry Christmas to All" reminding us that he and his reindeer had a long night ahead, and the ladies took over, handing out oranges and small net bags of candy and nuts. This part of Christmas was now over for another 1-o-n-g year. As we rode home, tucked snugly into the buggy or, more often, the sleigh depending on road conditions, drawn slowly along by "Old Pet" who had been patiently waiting out the evening in the old church carriage sheds along with several others of her kind, we felt that there could be nowhere in the world anyone happier . or luckier than we, and there was still the tree at home waiting for Christmas Eve. Joy, peacefulness, and good will, at least in our small world, was a reality. We were richer than kings. No king could have been happier or more satisfied than we. What a pity that this seems to be no longer the case. Leona A. Clifford �[ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ r L, [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ January 1982 Long Ago Days With apologies for taking a small vacation from the usual old memories I will be back in the February issue! Another New Year will be here by the time this is read. How fast they fly by as we grow older! It used to be time for looking back a bit and looking forward a whole lot. Remember the New Year's Resolutions? I never hear anyone mention them now but people talked about them a whole lot in my younger days. Today I don't think anyone makes any-probably just as well. They were seldom kept then wouldn't be now. We looked back on many happy events and some sad ones, and resolved to make the year coming up a lot better. Today most of us are pretty wary of that word «better". We worry about inflation, depression, almost world wide intolerable situations and WAR. I suppose the only consolation about that is, that if it comes it will be the last one and all our troubles will end instantly! If we try not to think too much about these things over which we have absolutely no control, then we get it morning noon and night from T.V. radio and every newspaper plus many magazines, so it is ever with us in spite of ourselves. It is a very sad state of affairs to my way of thinking. Oh well, Ho Hum! I have resolutions for 1982. it is to try to not get too depressed by having to live in such times, to be thankful that I live in the best country in the world, and to wish all of you, with all my heart---HAPPY NEW YE AR! ! ( 1 9 8 2) Leona A. Clifford �February 1982 Long Ago Days These past few days remind me of an old "saw". "When the days begin to lengthen, then the cold begins to strengthen". That certainly is true this year and I suppose it's been true more times than not. There seems to be virtually no end to it! In those long ago days of old-fashioned, cold, snowy winters, life on the "one horse farm" which the majority of those in Granville were, simmered down. The harvest was in, house banked, either with dirt or, in some cases with sawdust from Bill Reeves planing mill, stove wood cup, butchering over--outside of caring for the animals and hens, (mother's job), twice a day, chores were at a minimum. Daddy drew up the twenty one or more cords for wood he had cut as soon as there was snow enough to use his "wood shod" sled. It stayed in a long pile in the south door yard until about March when it was first sawed up into stove lengths, split and finally stacked in the two woodsheds to be nice and dry for the next year. We never burned a single stick of green wood, as some did, a common cause of chimney fires in those days, which quite often burned the house down--no efficient, conscientious fire department in one of Granville's greatest assets. The wood gathering, from start to finish, was hard work but it didn't fill in all the time available. In the house mother still had to do the usual weekly wash by hand on a wash board. It was hung in winter in the attic where it promptly froze but eventually dried. Then came the mending, a lot of which consisted of darning stockings-remember that job? There were still meals to get and baking to do--she made all our bread as well as many "goodies''--but there was still quite some time to kill, so to speak, there too. My daddy loved to read and for such a meek, mild-mannered man he loved a good mystery or a western story. There was a Western Story magazine then which the late William F. Reeves must have subscribed to for he sent bundles of them to my father, which was most thoughtful of him. Daddy could do small repair jobs--1 can still see him in front of the kitchen stove repairing tire chains with new links, or, if it wasn't too cold he could work in his dark room. It was then, the weather not being suitable for picture taking, that he made reprints of old pictures that we wanted copies of, and for which I will be everlastingly grateful. Mother loved to crochet--all sorts of edgings for pillow cases, doilies and trimmings for garments, to which my yard long baby petticoats will attest. She like to make a quilt once in a while too, and I have one made from unbleached muslin, possibly flour bags, on which she appliqued and blanket stitched �[ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ butterflies cup from colorful pieces of cotton prints. On occasion she stripped up rags for rugs. She hooked two out for Aunt Anne Darlow's large black shawl and her red and black piano drape--not too pretty but she thought it a good way to save both "antiques" as they were not in the best of shape. Most "rag rugs" went to make scatter rugs for the floor beside the beds, and were woven on a loon by a lady in Tolland who either was a Deming or lived with them. They beat a cold bare floor, later linoleum, on a cold morning, "all hollow" as old times used to say, and all the bedrooms had them. Another thing for which I will be everlastingly thankful, for, as you certainly know by now, I am deeply interested in old days and old ways, was the practice of keeping scrap books. Now clippings for these had to be saved up as they occurred but quite often they were finally pasted in the book itself during the winter, with mother making her own paste from boiled flour and water just as she did for wall papering, usually a spring house cleaning time job. Over a period of some 140 years, there have been five of these handed down in the family. They contain, for the most part, newspaper clippings, plus trivia of interest to the compiler--pictures, poems, etc. One was my grandma Francena Reen Nelson's, one was my aunt Anna Nelson Clark's, one was mother's , of Benjamin Jones' and mine, still in the works. We also have the family Bibles of Anna Barlow and Isaac Aldrich, my Vermont grandma, with many family records of interest to me. There being no telephones, T.V., radio or other such media, the only way one could keep track of town events plus those in neighboring towns, where one was apt to be pretty well acquainted in those days, and which were very well covered back then by the press, ~ the press and "word of mouth", sometimes long in coming, especial in winter if the road was drifted five feet or more deep. Therefore the newspapers were the prime source of scrap book material. There is a big change in them today--almost no local news, all politics, murder, mayhem and "fillers". The best you can hope for today is the accounts of deaths and sometimes they don't make it either. When John Beckman died a short time ago--our mailman for a long time-- I found not a single word, and when mother died the account of her death and Memorial Service was,--What did Marjorie Mills on a Boston radio station years ago, used to say?--an inexhaustible source of unreliable information? Well, certainly not the former but what a made they made of the latter. When I called the paper about it, they carried the idea that it make not a whit of difference. Well it did to me! If these conditions had existed "way back when", I wouldn't have a single scrap book of any interest to me at all! This past year has seen, since last January 16, the demise of more of the �people that I knew of all my life in Granville than any other year I ever remember, and they are the ones who, each in his own way, helped shape our town, so that to me a bit of it died with each one of them. Bertha Hunt lived a longer life than most of them and longer than any of use are likely to do. Back a ways when she was able to do so, I had some most interesting talks with her about her early days in West Granville, her long walks to school, the houses in that section of town, many long gone, as well as the folks that lived in them. Most of what she told me was no longer remembered by anyone. She reminded me of her mother who like to visit and no one or two occasions told me a lot of interesting stories about their part of town and its people. It is sad that in her last years Bertha failed mentally as many as old person, and some not so old have done--sadder even more for her relatives and friends who loved her. I am glad that she is free at last from all earthly sorrows and problems. May the eternal light shine upon her and may she rest m peace. Leona A. Clifford • 1 I �i March 1982 LONG AGO DAYS L~ Part 2. Back to Newspapers and Scrapbooks! L~ i I I L__, r I I L , r I I L-- ' I i L , Mother told me that at one time Grandpa Nelson took five papers of one kind or another. One was probably the New England Homestead. Rem.ember that one? It kept the farmers up on the latest farming methods and carried ads for all sorts of things---live poultry, livestock, machinery, ''women's wants 11 - - - mostly yarn, quilt pieces, (by the pound), sewing supplies, plus ads for farm products, maple syrup and sugar, honey, etc .... After daddy no longer kept bees I sent to a Mr. Longfellow in Maine for my supply. He had an ad in N. E. H. excellent honey too as I rem.ember itl That paper was in our home until the last day of its existence, and when it had a short period of revival I took it again until its final demise, though these couldn't com.pare to the "old timers". Grandpa's other papers were local---Westfield or Springfield having had several over the years. The Springfield Union, still going strong, was no doubt one of them.---it was in my day, and the Westfield ones were many--- The News Letter, Daily Tim.es, Valley Echo, Daily Journal, etc ... For a short time Granville had at least one, The Granville Sun, put out by the Late William Snow, when he lived with his parents where Bill Heino does today---m.ore about that next month---. Grandpa had to walk to the Post Office at the West Granville Store to get his papers and mail in earlier days. That got him a two mile hike which was no doubt good for him--- took the place of the present jogging craze which has come up with a few pro blem.s not brought on by walking. This P. 0. closed in 1909 but the old boxes are, or were, in Wiggins Tavern in Northampton. With no radio, T .V. etc., these papers kept everyone informed, not only about world and national events, but about their neighbors and friends of, in most cases, a lifetime, as well as local affairs such as town meetings or church goings on. Not much moving about in those days. People stayed "put" for several generations except for lumbermen, a few of whom with their help, moved in and out again, transportation not being what it is today l You knew, in fairly short order, who had been "hatched, matched or dispatched." You found out who was ill or injured. In the first case--a new baby--what a surprise! The word pregnant was unheard of and unmentioned in the presence of "young folks." Until they were married some girls were barely aware of "how come?" My mother told me that the late Dr. White brought me which promptly induced me to write him a letter asking him to bring me a baby brother. He laughed until the tears ran down his cheeks---he was visiting my �sick sister at the time--- and I wondered whatever was so funny about my request, which, by the way, was never answered. When it came to weddings they were long detailed lists of guests, gifts, and refreshments. They were apt to pique to those who weren't invited and gave those who were the idea that they were the "creme de la creme" of society in the town. As far as funerals, not a soul left this vale of tears who had not assumed in his lifetime almost the status of saint-hood. Never speak ill of the dead and they didn't! Next they got down to the ill and injured. These were serious events on the small farm. It was time for neighbors to pitch in and help out all they possibly could. Neighbors really helped each other then. One time daddy took "Old Pet" our horse to get a shoe replaced at Wilbert Munn's Blacksmith Shop in Tolland. (This stood just west of the Tolland church and was the last one around to have an ox shoeing rig). Mr.- Munn was in the midst of raking hay as fast as he could so as to beat a gathering storm and get the hay in the barn, so daddy raked and Wilbert shod! One of our student ministers making pastoral calls found the late Gladys Roberts knee deep in canning peaches so he pitched in and peeled peaches all afternoon-- just two of many such incidents in days gone by, that come to mind-- there were many others. The news told of who had a litter of baby pigs-- get right down there and order two for next winters meat-- Gilbert Miller and William Cooley both raised some Chester Whites which we also preferred. Daddy picked those that were long of body with a good curl in their tails. I was pretty old when I discovered red, black, and spotted pigs and they still don't turn me on. Pure habit I guess for "pigs is pigs." After all the news of every kind had been well read then came the clipping of those items that interested you. From all this wealth of material, sifted and sorted and pasted I am in debt today for our (priceless to me) scrapbooks. And I find from time to time that from them I have been able to help someone in their family research-- a job I love to do. I am not a dedicated radio or T.V. fan. I still like to read a very few parts of my sisters Springfield Daily News-- editorials, Westfield page, obits, (sure sign of old age), but in all, it doesn't offer much, almost nothing for my scrapbook which will probably be mostly hand written as different events come to my attention. I usually wind up with comics. (I am not a fan of Spiderman or Star Wars) because Fred Basset, The Smith Family and other "funnies" take the taste of today's news of murder, mayhem and assorted violence world wide out of my mouth! Leona A. Clifford �[ [ April 1982 [ [ ,.... L [ [ [ [ [ r I L r l, [ r l, [ [ The Granville Sun 1880-1881 This paper was printed and published in West Granville by William G. Snow. In 1880, Gamaliel Snow, a manufacturer from Meriden, CT. bought the place now owned in West Granville by William Heino, for reasons of health. He moved there in May that year and with him was his 17 year old son, William, who decided that as Granville had no paper of its own he would print one. A year later however, he went to New York where he stayed eight years, until 1889. He then returned to Meriden. Gamaliel Snow died in 1892 but the place in West Granville was their summer residence until 1904 when it was sold to James E. Downs of Chicago. In later years the Snows owned, as a summer place, the home of Jean Fuller. William Snow and his wife are buried in the West Granville Cemetery as is their son, Glover. I remember all of them as well as their daughter, Lucy. The Sun carried short stories, ads, poems, train schedules, patterns, recipes and news! It was most interesting to me when I read it, for while I never knew most of the people mentioned in it, I had heard about so many of them so much that I felt as if I did. Things were pretty well different in 1880 as you will see from the kinds of advertising printed that year in the Sun, some of which follows: July 15, 1880: H.M. Parsons, Deputy Sheriff for Hampden County; Office at the Hotel in West Granville. William Wells, Justice of the Peace, Land Surveyor and Conveyancer. Pension claims promptly attended to. Residence North Lane, East Granville. James M. Goodwin, Trial Justice, Law Business promptly attended to. Office No. 2, West Main Street (Now the home of Mr. and Mrs. Bert Hill). Compound Vegetable Alternative syrup, manufactured by Dr. E. Smith, West Granville, Massachusetts (Believe he lived in Hartland Hollow). N. Fenn, dealer in Manufactured tobacco, etc., also clocks, watches and jewelry repaired at short notice. (He doctored also as see next item). Nathan Fenn, Mfg. and distributor of Pure Vegetable Medicines. All kinds of fevers immediately broken up if the patient desires. Office, No. 5 West Main Street (The Penns came from Meriden, Connecticut. They lived in the old house that stood where Albert Sheets built a new one, about 1916). William Snow and Company. We hope to receive a fair share of public patronage. We do our work as Cheap as the Cheapest and in the highest style of the Art. Wilbert Munn, horse shoer, wagon maker, etc., Tolland, Massachusetts. (His shop stood just west of the Tolland Church. He also shoed oxen of which, �at one time, there were many hereabouts). CROCKERY; Having just received three crates of crockery which is more than I want to stock, I will sell for the next 60 days at about half the usual price. Come early as I have not half shelf room for it and must be disposed of at unheard of prices. All other goods very cheap. J.M. Gibbons, Granville Corners. N.P. Rockwood, undertaker, Granville Center. Dealer in Caskets, Coffins and burial cases. A fine hearse supplied for funeral occasions. Prices to suit the times. (July 1881, J.M. Gibbons has bought out the undertaking business of N.P. Rockwood). V.E. Barnes and Brothers: Steam Mill Lumber Company are prepared to furnish all kinds of lumber at short notice and at reasonable rates. Lumber planed if desired. They are doing a large business and are fortunate in securing the services of H. L. Chase who is more than an ordinary mechanic. Leona A. Clifford �i May 1982 Long Ago Days The Granville Sun 1880-188l(Continued) l_ I~ L. i I L ' I L~ i I L L. L. ' L r-' I L i ' I L.... The West Granville Church has purchased a new organ. A runaway near Barnes mill last Sunday destroyed a carriage and the horse tried very hard to walk into V.E. Barnes' house, but we guess he was not welcome as Mrs. Barnes shut the door in his face. H.C. Robinson expects to pick 300 barrels of winter apples this fall and Charles Treat 500 barrels. Bennett Moore of Tolland is building a new mill in place of his old one for the Lumber and Shingle business. Lewis Bush of West Parish traded off a glandary horse to Alfred Latham which we believe is against the law. We hear that the selectmen paid Latham $12.00 to kill his glandary horse after they had obliged him to keep it in the stable 15 days. It is now reported that he wants damages! Deacon J.W. Johnson has decided not to rebuild his Sawmill(the old one burned, on State Forest Road). The reunion of the family of Truman Ives of Tolland took place a few days ago. Sixteen were present--all except his son-in-law, J. L. Hakes and son. (My mother went to school with the son for a short time--the little devill) A picnic supper was held under an apple tree of the old gentleman's own planting. Everyone enjoyed it, especially the old gentleman whose face beamed with pleasure as he was surrounded by his nine grandchildren. (One of these Carrie Ives Cooley). W.C. Hall found one of his oxen choked with an apple the other day and with the assistance of a neighbor and "hog fat" he was soon relieved. The next morning the other one was found drunk, the result of a night forage in the orchard. Mr. Hall thinks the drunk the worst. Sensible! The first cattle drover that did not make the atmosphere blue with profanity passed through here on Friday. Nobody seemed to know who he was. He probably was from out of town. He should be presented with a leather medal! There are seven persons in West Granville and three in Tolland over eighty years old. The firing of cannons in Winsted, November 3rd in honor of the election of Garfield could be distinctly heard in this place. Messrs. Noble and Cooley have just completed a new water wheel for their drum factory which gives them two strings to their bow? �There is a large tree standing in a thicket in West Granviile which has been used as a house long years ago, but when and by whom is a mystery. Within is an old plank which has been used as a door and a rude fireplace bears marks of having given cheer to those within. A stranger probably would not find it by searching a year! (I heard from my folk years ago that it was on the Hayes place, south of Leroy Clinks.) Nelson Harger is afflicted like Job was, but we trust he has a better wife. (He did) (We have just heard of the death of Albert Sheets who was Nelson's grandson and according to mother was the "spitting image" of him). The Barnes Brothers a few days ago received a hemlock log which was five feet in diameter and when sawed, made nearly a thousand feet of boards. A merry party gathered at the house of Mr. and Mrs. Major Nelson last Tuesday to celebrate the birthday of their daughter, Miss Annie. About 25 were present and a large number were prevented by the heavy snowfall of a few days before--all roads not being open. The genial and happy faces of Mr. and Mrs. Nelson made it very pleasant for the young people, who are always provided with all the good things the heart could wish. Miss Annie has a fine organ and understands music better than many older. Music, singing and games were kept up until the small hours, when the company departed after having spent a very pleasant evening. Dwight Barnes and family have gone to Brockville, Ontario, Canada to live. (So did other families; most, if not all, returned). A small article about the road from C.W. Ives Mill to Aaron Nelsons. It being better than the new road which would cost at least $10.00 to shovel out. For $25.00 the old road could be graded and it would be used much more than the new one. (Guess that was never done.) H. H. Fenn, while moving a loaded gun Saturday, left the charge in the plastering just over his head, much to the surprise of the rest of the family that were in the room. A narrow escape is as good as a wide one and sometimes better! Steers are plentiful this year. Aaron Nelson has 4 pairs. The Fenn boys have four pairs. Major Nelson has 5 pairs. H.C. Robinson has 3 pairs. G. G. Treat has 3 pairs and Gilbert Miller has a pair of two year olds that are beauties. A.D. Williams and Charles Terrett have very fine double teams. They are the best in West Granville. Silas Noble and Ethan Dickinson have the best in the east parish. Much praise is due Miss M.P. Terrett(refurbishing Ladies Aid Room). Her efforts have been untiring, her motto, Forward and Onward! Mr. Goodwin Treat presented us with a cluster of apple blossoms on the �~---~--- -----~--·---~. --·-~---- r1 L t I l - [ [ i I L - i ,------ I I I r 20th(August 1880). Mr. Treat will undoubtedly have some late apples! Asa P. Rand made glad the heart of Mrs. Susan A. Searle last week by announcing that a pension had been awarded to her by the general government, dating back to the passage of the law covering her case, and amounting to $1586.00. Mrs. Searle is 62 and has an invalid husband 65. She lost three sons in the war (civil) by wound and sickness and seven years ago petitioned for a pension. She had about given up on it! Chafee (mailman) is not to be envied. On Thursday, Friday, and Saturday he was unable to get any further than East Granville with his team and had to walk from there to Tolland eight miles. (I think it was more like ten or twelve.) (Feb. 1881) Dr. Swett, our new and popular physician, has so extensive a ride that he needs an assistant. Indeed, Madam Rumor has it that he will soon take a partner--one who will add to his joys, subtract from his cares, multiply his pleasures, and divide his sorrows. So might it be! There has been some sales of tobacco in west parish, (May, 1881) to Dea. S. S. Notham of Westfield. Ariel Frost sold his for ten cents through. Henry C. Robinson sold about 2300 lbs. for five and fourteen cents, Franklin A. Robinson (Beech Hill) sold 2200 lbs. to Rice and Brown of Canton, Ct. for ten cents through. July, 1881: FOR SALE: The press, type, rule, dashes, etc; used in printing this paper. Cost when new $175.00. Will sell cheap for cash-- The office. I L---- r I I L L r L i I L r I L r I I : ) L-, P.S. Will Snow did a mighty fine job for a seventeen year old. There is much more of interest in this Old Sun but I have been advised not to make my articles too long so here it endeth! SIC TRANSIT GLORIA Leona A. Clifford �July 1982 Long Ago Days Last year I read Abe Hemingway's Gazeteer of Windham County, Vermont as I chased some elusive ancestors. She dealt at some length on foods of the early pioneers in that state. She wrote that bean porridge cooked up with a large amount of beans, water, meat, cured one way or another, and vegetables--most often turnips--was a staple and was eaten for breakfast as well as for supper. After milk became plentiful, that, with brown bread or johnnycake was often the evening meal. Pumpkins were a common article of food, usually baked. After removing all the seeds and pulp as we do for jack-a-lanterns they were filled with milk, the top was replaced and they were baked in the oven six to eight hours. Parsnips were also a common vegetable. There were very few potatoes and corn was scarce. When my father was young-- he was born in 1865--potatoes had become common and so had corn in that same county. The corn was used mostly as cornmeal for corn bread, Indian puddings, etc. Buckwheat was raised for flour for "flapjacks". They had almost no white flour or white sugar. They used "yellow" sugar, molasses, maple syrup and "soft" maple sugar which was stored in large milk cans for the years's supply, for their sweeteners, probably some honey when available. There was YJaY little "cash money" as he called it, but there was a great deal of bartering between neighbors---what you had most of for what they had most of! In my childhood things had uimproved" a great deal. We raised the greatest part of our food and there was much more variety but it was almost entirely seasonal. In the winters most of it was not fresh but cured, canned, dried, pickled, preserved, etc. In those long ago days, we welcomed spring as the beginnings of having many fresh vegetables, and at the top of the list for my folks were dandelion greens--John Houseman's t.v. ad to do with cholesterol notwithstanding! Cooked up with a big chunk or our own g_Q,QQ_ salt pork--not the "desiccated" kind found in so many stores today-- some looks as if it had been around since the year one, as my mother often remarked about things whose course was run---and it tastes worse, but right out of the big crocks in our cellar that daddy had " put down" at butchering time. With it plenty of "plain" boiled potatoes and mother's homemade bread both slathered with homemade butter, made a meal fit for the gods! I will always remember coming home from Ore Hill School around 4:30 on a spring afternoon--school kept until four and we sort of dawdled our way home--and getting that first wonderful aroma of boiling dandelions. It was all one could do to wait until suppertime, and a great temptation to sneak a couple of bites when we were �! old enough to do so. After them came cowslips, milkweeds, lambs quarters and other assorted kinds of wild things followed by the first "garden sass" of lettuce, radishes, beet greens, peas and so on until another fall rolled around. Nowadays, not living at the farm, and shortly after the peep frogs and robins put in their first appearance we get a call from our good neighbor, Mamie Lupinski, saying "the dandelions are ready if you ladies want to get some. 11 At the first possible moment away we go across the road where the dandelions grow in profusion around their large garden plot. If we are lucky, we get in two or three 11 digs 11 before they get too big. They if I can make it, I can beg one more batch from one of my old neighbors over in West Granville, theirs being later than ours. This year while visiting Edith Phelan on Beech Hill for a bit of genealogical discussion I was made a present of a batch of cowslips Walter had picked which were m good and a couple of days later I found fiddleheads at the Granville Country Store. We have had some fine feasts this year and more to come very shortly. We no longer have a garden but Lupinski s do and they have a stand on Loomis Street in front of their house. We get the very best, freshest, cleanest vegetables from them--one of the first being beet greens and one of the last winter squash with all sorts of good things in between. When we had gardens there was another weed that comes to mind that loves gardens. That is purslane, a spreading plant with reddish stems and small green leaves. It makes delicious greens not too unlike beet greens. A friend of mine in Detroit, Ted Johnson, lets some of these weeds stay in an otherwise immaculate garden and when the stems are about as big as a pencil he pickles them as one would with whole green beans and they are good! I am going to end this story on a bit different note. Desserts were rather scarce long ago but even until my early days dried apples were a staple in many homes. We had an apple drier with several screen trays which set in the back of the old kitchen range, filled with sliced apples, where it stayed uritil they got darker and rubbery. Then they were stored in a clean flour sack and hung from a nail in the attic. I loved dried applesauce and dried apple pie. When my father was little he was in a school program in Londonderry, Vermont and he recited the following recitation. He remembered it as long as he lived. 11 1 loathe, abhor, detest, despise Abominate dried apple pies The farmer takes his knurliest fruit 1 Tis wormy, bitter and hard to boot Then on some dirty string tis strung 1 : I \ L I L \ I L i I L : ' L i L ' i L ,--, '' I L, 1 �And from some attic window hung And there it stays a roast for flies Until it's ready to be made into pies Give me the toothache or sore eyes But don't pass me dried apple pie"! Can you imagine .t.hfil for a small child's recitation in a school program? I can't but I am sure, in some cases, it faced reality. I thank God for our "modern" apple drier! How lucky we are today for all those old fashioned foods we were brought up with as well as all the wonderful new ones available 365 days a year. Nevertheless everything tasted best to me in its own season and gave us something to eagerly look forward to. Leona A. Clifforc �August 1982 C-' ' i L_ ! L r1 ' r L [ r ! L~ i [__ [ i l_ Long Ago Days From 1903-1907, the Rev. Henry Albert Coolidge preached in the West Granville Church and also in Tolland and he and his wife, Dora, whom my mother called «Lady", became life long friends. He was born and brought up in the country on a farm and never forgot what it was like. This month my article is a copy of one of his many poems that he wrote, some of which were published. It will, I feel sure, bring back a lot of memories to you, as it did to me, if you were lucky enough to be born and raised on a long ago country one horse farm! NOSTALGIA I'm homesick for childhood's free gladness In life as a boy on the farm. Its sights and its scents and its flavors My memory constantly charm The songs of the birds that a waked me From sleep that was blessed with pure air, Their love for their young 'neath my window Gave joy just to know they were there. The call of the pigs needing feeding The cry of the calf in his stall, The fact that we shared in the choring Gave life a full value to all. The food, which was plain and yet wholesome, The appetites gained by real toil,-The eating together communion,--A picture no banquet can spoil. The tree by the lane to the pasture Where apples were juicy and sweet, Made driving and getting the cattle At morning and evening a treat. The berries from spring until autumn, The wintergreen found 'neath the snow, We ate in the fields in spring sunshine, I taste their fresh flavor e'en now. The strawberries first in their ripening, The raspberries, blueberries, black,-Dessert, which we ate from the bushes Made up for all etiquette's lack. Eating bulks large in the picture Of life as a farm boy still bright, From carrots we ate with out washing To peaches we ate out of sight. TO BE CONTINUED IN SEPTEMBER EDITION Leona. A. Clifford �September 1982 Long Ago Days (Cont'd) We worked and worked hard in the hay-time. We hoed and pulled weeds 'mong the corn. Grew strong by the work which we dreaded, Yet viewed idle weakness with scorn. The holiday salting the cattle, A walk of three miles to the hill. A half-day of unhurried pleasure Gave work-days expectancy's thrill. We sang as we rode on the ox-cart When driving back home from the mill. The words were a "la-da-da-da-da". Its harmony haunteth me still. The animals oft were our playmates. One kind steer we rode as our steed. There's something a city-boy misses Who never gave bossy her feed. The home-folks are somehow much nearer When neighbors are farther apart. And toiling together is dearer When paying the bills is an art. For life on the farm is no picnic To those who think labor a curse; But poverty in the big city For children is very much worse. The boots which we blacked up for Sunday Were strong for our use other days. And bare-foot we went through the summer For saving we learned all the ways. The slow horse and jingling work-harness, The rattling old buggy we rode. Gave pain to my pride as a youngster When fine rigs drove past on the road. My hat, counting years up to seven, Which cost full ten cents for each year, Was one of the things, which hurt sorely; But we paid our bills, never fear. My memory bids me look backward While gratitude colors the skies And trust is begotten within me Toward life that before me still lies. And while I am homesick for childhoodF or things which are still out of sightThe wealth of the gifts to my boyhood Give hope for the glad final light. Leona A. Clifford �[ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ October 1982 Long Ago Days A couple of days ago a neighbor of ours began harvesting a large plot of field corn rather late in the day. With a rig consisting of a tractor, some sort of side reaper and blower, and two trucks the whole field was down, chopped, blown into first one truck and then the other, carted away and stored! All of this in a matter of hours and before darkness fell! Memory took me back right then to all the year's daddy got in what corn we raised, mostly sweet corn, and always Golden Bantam, for eating but also some field corn. Compared to our neighbors modern method he certainly did it the hard way but I don't suppose he gave it much thought for all the farmers were in the same boat, as the old saying goes. Cutting the corn was about the last harvesting job from the garden. As soon as the ears were sufficiently hardened they were gathered and stored to be later run through what today would be considered a very primitive corn sheller to be used as food for our small flock of laying hens. Our eggs had nice yellow yolks and even now I can't stand pale washed out looking ones! I think the credit went to the corn they ate. Armed with a corn knife, daddy then tackled the stalks. He gathered as many as he could with one arm and cut them down. Then, when he had several hills cut, he bound them into what he called a "stook". Possibly this was his Vermont-ese, as others call them by different names including, "Shocks". When all were finished and standing the field surrounded by many bright orange pumpkins for they usually planted amongst the corn, it was a pretty sight for a Hallowe' en picture! Shortly these "stooks" followed the ears up to the big cow barn floor. Here they were run through another old fashion tool, a cutting machine into which the talks were fed one by one, until there was enough cut to give each cow a share. While this operation was going on the manger boards so called, were usually up for it was feeding time and the cows would stand, albeit very impatiently, bugging our their eyes, running out their tongues and drooling in anticipation. It was a welcome addition to their steady diet of hay. The milking cows got a ration of grain (commercial) but the others didn't so the chopped fodder was a real treat. What a lot of slow hard work I thought my father did in those long ago days, as I watched the operation across the road! In days before I remember them, farmers with large corn crops often held husking bees. These were real parties when all ones neighbors and friends gathered to husk the corn and share in plenty of refreshment. Besides the work, if one was lucky enough to find a red ear, he got the collect a kiss from the person of his or her choice. By the time I came along that custom had ceased, at least in West Granville, but it must have been fun in an age when there wasn't anywhere near as much for amusement to be had. There was another reaping job that daddy quite often, but not always had taking care of the buckwheat crop. He liked to keep honeybees and bees love the buckwheat flowers, which made a particularly good type of honey, or so it was thought in those times. This was cut with a sickle, an instrument that looked like a large scythe only with many blades, one above the·other in the snath. As soon as it was cut and dried it too went onto the big barn floor and there it was thrashed by hand with a flail made from two hard round poles fastened together loosely with a piece of leather strap. It was long, exhausting work to separate �the kernels from the straw, the later winding up as bedding for the farm animals. In days before curs many people raised buckwheat for flour to cook with but we used ours for chicken feed along with the corn, the old time gristmill having about vanished. In the earliest days Granville as elsewhere, had them. They were an absolute necessity and it was fairly easy to get to one of them, but none was near by and people had gone to using milled white flour from the store instead of cornmeal, buckwheat, rye, etc. at least for the most part. Nathaniel Hubbard admitted a settler by 1759, built a gristmill and a fulling mill on the Mill, (Now Hubbard) River almost as soon as he arrived. There may have been others. He did no doubt, a thriving business until at a fairly young age he was killed in an accident at one of his mills, and they went to other people, they were in business for a long time. Today it is hard to "Keep Up" with living! Everything moves fast and furiously, fun and work included, and I know more is accomplished, but often at the cost of stomach ulcers and shattered nerves. Those long ago days were composed of lots of hard work and done in a hard fashion but the "doing" was at a much slower pace, and lives, I think, were healthier and happier. Leona A. Clifford �[ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ November 1982 Long Ago Days As I write this, October 16, we are about at the height of my favorite days of this year - the red, golden and green days of fall. This year I think they are extra pretty. People are out on their annual foliage tours and the Mohawk Trail, as usual is bumper to bumper traffic which would turn me off even though I know the Trail and love it in all its other seasons. To me no other drive can beat that of winding one's way through the Granville Gorge right now where there are several varieties of trees that tend to turn very golden in hue so that, even on cloudy days, the place fairly glows and on sunny days it is almost blinding in its beauty. When it comes time, as it must, for my trip to my last resting place in the old West Granville cemetery I trust it will be over that road, which to me always has a lot of beauty, even in winter, and if there's something to come hereafter I know my soul will be rejoicing as I go - one last fond memory of this earth to accompany me to wherever and whatever is to be. As I am surrounded by all this splendor it vividly recalls so many fall activities that it is hard to know where to begin, but Granville is still quite an apple town - So: Grandpa Nels on had three orchards on his farm. One was there when he moved in, and of the other two he may have planted both but certainly one. The old orchard, which in my day as a child had a very few ancient, gnarled trees left in it and had been put into pasture for the cows, still had some apples which we somehow managed to salvage as almost no spraying had to be done then they were fairly good. I particularly liked Snow apples - bright red smallish fruit, snow white inside with flecks of the same bright red scattered through their flesh. They were tart and juicy - qualities I still want in any apple I am going to eat. I think most old orchards had them and they were one of the kinds in Gilbert Miller's which stood about where Earl Miller's house now stands. We went there quite often in this season to get some of the drops during noon recess at Ore Hi11 School. The next oldest stood in the house lot and to the north of it as far as Cyrus Ives south line. Over the stone wall on its western edge was the "new" orchard, the largest of the three. Most of the trees were Baldwins but there were one or two of such as Hurlburt Stripes, Red Astrakans, Early Harvest - they made the BEST green apple pie! [ all fairly early to ripen. Then there were later ones such as Russets, Northern Spies - one of my all time favorites, Seek-nofurthers, and one Sheep nose that straddled the wall between his farm and Ives, so that each family had a share. Grandpa liked the latter two but to me they were rather flat and rubbery in texture. There was, in the "new" orchard one fairly long row of Opalescents and I remember when they started to bear. Grandpa had seen an ad for them someplace and the description therein prompted him to order some. As I recall it, they were a Western variety and they bore absolutely gorgeous large dark red apples that caught everyone's eye and had all the texture and flavor of a piece of blotting paper! They were about as tasty as the two Wolf Rivers that stood on the old Alfred Latham place which, before my day, had become part of the farm. There was no orchard on that place with my memory but, besides the Wolf Rivers, there was a tree of Golden �Sweets standing about in the middle of the garden lot, so called, ( even in real old deeds of this place I have seen). These Mother used for baked apples. I liked mine filled with raisins but guess I was in the minority on that. They were delicious served alone or with a little cream poured over, or as my dad loved them, cut up in a bowl of bread and milk. By this date most of our crop was already picked and we had had a very busy time. Uncle Olin would bring up one or two men who worked with him at the New Departure Mfg. Co. in Bristol, CT. each weekend, and things really flew, if you could call the methods used in those days "flying"! Our old horse made many trips with a full farm wagon load from the orchards to the barn and cellar, depending on which were to be sold and which were to be kept for our use. One of the regular buyers was a Mr. Sack from East Hartford, CT. He was a tremendously fat man - broad in the beam - and the only way he could make it through the narrow farmhouse doors was to go sideways which always tickled me! In the barn the apples were graded on a long board with holes of different sizes bored in them, although I am sure most of them were graded by eye. Mother made good use of all the bounty in the cellar. Some of every variety of winter apples were down there. From them she made delicious pies, apple dumpling (with brown gravy sauce made from brown sugar) which is now called pan dowdy and a lot of other names, apple sauce and apple sauce cake, a dark spice cake, with raisins. Today I am no longer a lover of sweets but her applesauce cake was one of my favorites and it could still tempt me to eat more than one piece! I know I've mentioned many times the quantities we consumed "as is", cold and crisp from the cellar on winter evenings as we read, played games, or, much later on, listened to the radio. Quite often a plentiful supply· would be dried and I liked the pie made from them almost better than the one made from fresh fruit. Some old timers made boiled cider applesauce and there was nothing wrong with that either l By the time my Grandfather died in 1930 the cost of maintaining those orchards had become excessive due to all the spraying that was required, plus the fact that most orchards were becoming much larger and his was really a small operation. Everyone knows by now that small farming operations of any kind are more of a liability than an asset, and so the orchards went, one by one, mostly to fire wood. It was a sad ending of many of my fond childhood memones. Leona A. Clifford P. S. ~n regard to my articles in the last Country Caller, I really do know a "cradle", which my dad used to harvest buckwheat, from the sickle I mentioned which he didn't. �[ [ December 1982 [ Part I [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ Long Ago Days About this time of year, long ago, my father was well into his annual trapping season. It began in October and lasted until about Thanksgiving, or until the ground froze enough so it was impossible to set traps. He learned the "art", for it is one if you can catch extremely wary animals such as the red foxes, in his first thirty-five years or so in his native Vermont. There, for many falls he and his cousin Charles Aldrich of Londonderry, ran their trap lines with spectacular results, and I have photos to prove it. When, at the instigation of the Fenn «boys" who went regularly to Vermont to hunt, and had previously lived on Albert Sheet's place many years, he came to West Granville, then an area with many fur bearers and no dedicated trappers. He did very well at his "hobby", as it were, catching himself a wife to boot! As a child I enjoyed the whole operation and at every opportunity I tagged along. First of all came the boiling of the steel traps. The huge iron kettle, also used for heating water for butchering and for cooking up messes of left over pumpkins, squashes and "pig potatoes"---(these are the little ones you get in your bags of spuds from the supermarkets now-a-days!) for the hogs, was filled with all the traps plus a goodly supply of tallow, which kept them from rusting, and lots of hemlock twigs which destroyed any human scent clinging to them. The pot was then filled with water and boiled for some time over an open fire. Soon daddy packed his trapping basket with a goodly supply of them plus a tiny, long-handled spade and a "sifter" to cover the sets with fine dirt-no lumps or stones allowed-they could keep the traps from performing its job. To these he added pieces of bait-scraps of raw meat or fish which he purchased from a market in Westfield. Once in an emergency when he felt the bait called for was fish, he proceeded to catch one with a hook and line, plus a worm or two, carried in a metal Williams shaving cream can in his jacket pocket. Then armed with a good stout cane plus his revolver, in case he found a wildcat in one of hit traps, away he went. I no longer remember how many traps were on each line there were two of them, possibly 60 or 75 apiece. One was "tended" one day, one the next, all through the season of a month or so, depending on the weather. Good open pastures, of which there were many at that time, though most are woods today, were the best places to set fox traps. He put them at the base of any small hummock with which said pastures abounded. A rather high one was best, for foxes are curious and will stand on the highest ground near them to get a good look around. Especially good were the ones on regular fox runs, which after a winter or so were easy to determine by their tracks in the snow. Like many wild animals, while they range to some extent, they tend to have definite paths that they travel a great deal--to and from their dens or favorite hunting spots--. Skunks could be caught in most any location and one kept an eye out for the innumerable small holes they dig looking for grubs, or for small rocks they overturn for the same reason-signs they were in the neighborhood. Daddy always had "spring" sets too, some on our farm and others far afield. In them he stood the best chance of catching raccoons and also, for some reason that escapes me, a wildcat now and then. "Coons" like frogs, plentiful in the �spring, and like to wash other food items they have found-a neighbor, who had a pet one gave it a doughnut, which it immediately washed to crumbs in its water bowl--. The river was a good place for a mink or a muskrat to meet his doom, as well as for, on rare occasions, an otter. It would have been good beaver territory too, except that in those days we had no beavers in the area. For many years until 1938, the huge foundations of Johnson's Mills stood just west of the Hubbard River Bridge on our road, now the State Forest Road. They set to the edge of the water and now and again a mink would be seen playing around in their nooks and crannies. I especially remember an especially fine one caught there with a piece of chicken for bait. One of our old hens had gone to hen heaven and wound up as bait! I also remember very well that it was on this occasion that I found out, if you will pardon the expression that MINKS STINK! Give me a good strong skunk smell any day-it clears your sinuses-minks smell like burning rags-suffocating! Leona A. Clifford �[ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ r L~ [ [· r l, [ [ r L~ January 1983 Long Ago Days, Part II Meanwhile, back to skunks, which made up the biggest amount of the "catch". At trapping time they had accumulated huge amounts of fat for protection from the cold ahead, especially along their backs. Daddy saved every scrap of it' and tried it out for its oil, liberal doses of which were applied to our chests for colds. Over it went a piece of wool flannel. Once a local minister's wife, who suffered from rheumatism and had heard about the wonderful properties of the stuff in regard to same, wrote to my father and ordered a pint of "oil of skunk", which tickled him no end, never having heard it referred to in that way, but he immediately obliged! I don't know the results she got from it but it seemed to work wonders on a congested chest. A trapped animal was quickly dispatched and the trap reset. Then some distance away, daddy would look for a comfortable place to sit and skin it, the skins being much easier to carry home than the bodies. It was skinned from tail to nose in a tubular fashion and scraped clean of any bits of fat, flesh or hair. At home all were stretched on long narrow boards of appropriate sizes fur side in, and hung in the attic. I no longer remember how long they stayed there but he took them down and turned them fur side out; they resembled a rather pliable piece of parchment and made a crisp crackly sound. Soon came the fur dealers. There were many places in those days where the furs could be shipped, the Howe Fur Co. for one, but I remember mostly a dealer, Mr. Austin from Suffield who came to the house. He would check each one out and grade them - prime, good, etc. He knew his job well and paid fair prices. One year, -- about 1920-21, he paid $20.00 each for prime red foxes. Daddy was absolutely astounded though none the less pleased. Minks, though small, were very valuable and I remember the best bringing $12.00, a very good price in those days. Grey foxes didn't bring much as they tended to have coarse fur. Skunks did well the less white they had on them. A good black one with just a bit of white on his head was the best. Then they went to half stripe, (part way down their backs). Full stripes (all the way down), and white ones which were hardly worth carrying home - - might bring $0 .25. Coons did pretty well as did muskrats although we seemed not to be in very good muskrat country. Bobcats sold cheap. I think it was a case of another predator being done away with more than the value of its hide! Once in a while he caught an otter, a superbly beautiful animal with thick almost black fur. I think it was most often used on the collars of men's expensive overcoats. I have a picture of daddy holding an otter in one hand and a bob cat in the other and he had to hold his hands high to keep their feet from dragging! About 1936 he did his last trapping. He was 71 and the laws, becoming more strict each year, made the whole business unprofitable considering the hard work and long trips it took. In that last year he gave me a beautiful red fox which I had made into a "fur piece". Aunt Mayme Nelson had one, probably the most unusual one he ever caught, made into a shawl type collar. It was a "cross" fox, having a stripe of dark hair the length of its back and across its shoulders. It was the only one I ever saw and I still have it packed away with �mine somewhere, my "belongings" being pretty well dispersed in various placed now. In those long ago days trapping never struck me as being cruel. Daddy considered it to be the easiest way he knew of earning a considerable amount of money, and he had a way of putting things across in their very best light. As we started the days rounds, his description of the good dinner of roast coon with stuffing we were going to have if he was lucky enough to get one fairly made my mouth water with anticipation! I looked on the whole affair as I did on the demise of our pigs each fall-more along the lines of pork chops, ham, bacon, etc. plus a supply of that scarce commodity, surplus cash, rather than to the actual killing. Today we have a wonderful variety of "fake" furs-some extremely hard to tell from the real thing. It is just as well. I like to think of the comparatively few wild native animals we have now as being free from the disaster of the steel trap. Hunters are about but outside of deer, I don't seem to hear of many catches. I will never forget one party of three or four men and as many beagles that asked grandpa for permission to hunt rabbits across from the house in his ox pasture. Having got that, off they went in high spirits. After a few minutes shots rang out and in a few minutes more back they came, one of them having seen the bushes move and shot and wounded one of the dogs! Over the years a few sad affairs in town attest to the fact that some people will shoot at anything! I am sure it seems strange to you that a small child like I was, would enjoy accompanying my father on those long treks after fur whenever I possibly could, but I did. I'm sure it helped to supply quite a few extra pleasures- in our lives as well as necessities, and it was good healthy exercise as well. Leona A. Clifford �[ [ February [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ r L~ I I L, [ [ 1983 Long Ago Days The 1983 Lions Club Calendar is out and when Bert Parker returned the picture of Gibbon's store he had borrowed from me he brought one and asked me to write what I remember about it. All the early towns had to sooner or later have a store and Granville has had several, the oldest probably being the one in West Granville. I am not sure. The store in the picture began in 1851, when Carlos Gibbons, grandson of Peter, first of the name in town, whatever else he had been up to, decided to open a store and he did so on the site where Frank A . Tinker had run a store and hotel, and site of the present Country Store. Carlos had married Almira Tinker and possibly Frank was a relative but I have never found out anything about him except that Tinker's Hall was used for meetings and singing school. I would like to know a lot more about it. It might have been a "swinging" place! Carlos had several children and one of them, John Murray, went into the business when he was 16, was manager and assistant post master at 17, and postmaster at 21, a job he held for about 47 years. Quite a record I'd say! Later it came down to the Gibbons "boys". I remember so well-- Eddie Murray who died when I was seven or eight but I remember him faintly, and Ben, Fred, and Will. I can shut my eyes and in my mind I can clearly see each of their faces and hear each of their voices. I also will never forget the treats of candy they presented us with on the rare occasions when we stopped by. Over the years the building burned twice, the original in 1884 and the one in the photo in 1934, but it arose each time as Phoenix from the ashes and is still in business. As time went by it changed hands twice, first to Paul Nobbs in 1945 and then to Roland Entwhistle, present owner in 1971. But to return to the picture---there was an apartment in the building where people, still in town, lived at one time or another and there was a hall upstairs. All or part of this was used for a schoolroom some of the time. When· I graduated from grammar school in 1927 it was being so used. The post office was in the store itself, partitioned off by a half wall on two sides and on the corner of these was the largest, perfectly round wall of tinfoil which he "boys" had built and they were still at it when I was little. I always looked to see how much bigger it had grown between our visits on the scarce occasions when I got inside--didn't go to the store every five minutes in those days--- more like three or four times a year. Tinfoil wrapped a great many things then--no plastic. I have often wondered if it was destroyed in the 1934 fire. I would like to know. It was one of my seven wonders of the world· back then! Benjamin Gibbons was postmaster in those days, later succeeded by �Randy Peterson. In our childhood most of our groceries came from this store in exchange for fresh eggs, by stage, along with the mail and once in a while a passenger. I remember that the one thing that couldn't be sent in summer was molasses. We sent our gallon stone jug over but it had to wait for a cool day to come back for on a hot one molasses "boils" over. On those rare visits I was also pretty much interested in their large case of nickel and penny candies and their store cheese which was, and still is famous. The Gibbons bought the cheese, possibly in the beginning from the local farmers, for tons of cheese was made here, but later from the large companies, and cured it by their own method. I suppose that is still the case. My dad was partial to it and I remember that when we took old Pet to Mr. Marcotte's blacksmiths shop to get new shoes, we would go along and daddy would stop at Gibbons store and buy a piece of the cheese, some birch beer and some crackers and "store" cookies sold by weight from a carton. Then we would leave the horse at Marcottes, next house east of the present school, and walk down to the bridge on the Gorge Road and have a picnic, and believe me those picnics were an event! It would be nice to know whose surreys and other conveyances are in the yard in the picture. The surreys with their fringe on top were the Cadillacs of their day I suppose. Mr. J. E. Downs in West Granville had two before he moved on to Pierce Arrows, etc. One my father bought for a school bus to use in good warm weather and one was still in the barn at his summer home when Bill Heino bought the place in the 1940s. Well, we will probably never know. Surreys, horses and owners have all faded into the past. However it is still nice to know that Gibbon's Store itself still lives on after so may years---at least 150. Leona Clifford �[ [ March 1983 [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ r L Long ago days The snow had begun in the gloaming And busily all the night Had been heaping field and highway With a silence deep and white. James Russell Lowell Well, we sure had a real blizzard last weekend and after all our mce unwintry weather too, when we had begun to think spring really was around the corner! There was only one good thing about it to my way of thinking it came now when it won't last too long instead of in December when it might have. According to Channel 3 T.V. it was one of the "BIG FOUR" snowfalls since the U.S. Weather Bureau started keeping records. Well, I didn't keep any but I imagine the first one was the blizzard of '88. My mother was two at the time and didn't remember it but heard plenty of tales about it from the family, mostly about what a job it was to get to the barns and other farm buildings to take care of the horses, cows, etc. They weren't worried about their own food supply. The old stone cellar was fully "equipped" at that time of year, I believe it was in March, to sustain them for a long period and staples such as white flour and sugar were bought by the barrel in the case of the first, and in large sacks in the case of the second, in the fall so as to be ready for any bad weather that might come along. Their worst worry was probably sudden illness or accident but the old fashioned home town doctors had a way of getting through like the U.S. mailman going his "appointed rounds"---any old way he could. My father was much older than my mother and in '88 he was employed in his brother Albert's bakery on Spring Street in Springfield, Massachusetts. He made all the pies as well as other things including his homemade molasses and cream candies. I am glad he knew how to do that! His molasses candy was the best I ever ate and his Vermont marble candy slab is still around but I never learned the art sad to say. The storm just about buried the bakery so that they dug tunnels out from the doors of the various shops and homes so as to get anywhere at all. The entire city came to a standstill. However coming as late as it did the snow disappeared fast. While it lasted however, it gave people living at the time many life long memories. I heard considerable about it as a child -- it being only 24 years older than me and still pretty fresh in the oldsters minds. I don't remember or know about four memorable storms but I �remember very well that most big snows seemed like blizzards to me when I was small. I skied to school across the tops of snowbanks piled high by the men. shoveling the roads by hand -- much more fun than walking in the road itself -- and every winter back then seemed to bring us its full share, and more of the white stuff! About all that could be done while snowed in was to keep the fires burning and do the barn chores, eat and sleep and wait for things to improve! Small jobs of mending could be done as well as lots of sewing and reading-- then came shoveling and more shoveling. We had a small dog named Mitzi and she seemed to like to see my father begin that job. She would jump in ahead of him and dig like mad looking back every once m a while to see how he was doing! In or about 1945 or 46 we got a "Lulu"! Dennis and I were living in Westfield and the snow was, I think, the worst I ever saw. I have a picture of Daddy's Plymouth four door sedan sitting on North Lane in West Granville and it looks like a midget. At that time I have heard the Town of Granville called for help and big rotary plows came from Westover Field to clean it away. They left the sides of the roads looking like perfectly flat walls very many feet high. No one was at the farm that winter for mother and daddy were staying with us and there was no way we could get out to see how things were out there but everything survived. Some of those old buildings had been around for 150 years -- a blizzard was nothing new rm sure. Our latest "visitor" was a surprise after all the projections of a few flurries. When I got up in the morning and looked out I could hardly believe my eyes even though I admit I was more asleep than awake. My faithful old car which has stood in the yard here for five years now was gone! I always felt it would be stolen someday but on a fully awake second look it wasn't stolen, it was buried alive. So was everything else. The boy who shovels our driveway and his sister worked hard to get one lane out to Honey Pot Road after a couple of days but the town of Southwick was so busy with the main roads that they don't do much for Honey Pot and it turned to packed down, (practically glare) icy snow. We couldn't get out of our yard shoveled or not. Finally a big plow came and did the road and our GOOD neighbor, Billy Lapinski, chopped off some corners of the snowbanks at the end of the driveway. Yesterday, Feb. 16, I got to Westfield. I really didn't mind being house bound but still, in these times, cabin fever comes on faster than it used to. It was nice to visit the outside world again. Leona A. Clifford C l ..____J �r- i ' April 1983 r' ' :__ ,- ! '- r I L, i r I L ,! L 'L [ Long Ago Days I have been enJoymg the loan of three books of old and older pictures of Granville. After I wrote about the Gibbon's store on the 1983 Lions Club calendar, wishing I could know more about the carriages and people in it, I received a call from Wilhelmina Tryon, who with her husband, Willard, owns the Country Store on Granville Hill. She told me the couple standing on the steps were Fred and Prudence Seymour and that they lived in the apartment on the east side of the building. They were relatives of Wilhelmina's mother, the late Mrs. William Hansen, who lived where Ruth Hansen does now. As for the carriages---John 0. Roberts lived where Ray Nestrovich does now in the big house, and he rented out horses and conveyances--- what amounted to a small 11 livery stable 11 operation, and Fred and wife had no doubt rented one of them. I wish so often to know more about old times, places and people but seldom get my wish as in this instance. I was most grateful! Since the call, Wilhelmina brought me several books of photos to look at. Many were postcards my father took to sell in various places in the area, but some were taken years ago by Ellis Goodrich and some more recently by Wallace Huntington who is 11 Butsy 11 Boughton 1s nephew. No doubt Ray Noble took some. I have heard that he photographed many local scenes. I was especially interested in one of the old carriage shops that stood between the homes of Stillman Humphrey and Roswell Rowley, now Pugh and Oleksak. Albion Wilson says Simon 11 painter 11 Henry, who was a wheelwright owned it, also Charles Barnes, who moved his business there from South Lane. It burned February 19 , 1903. There was also an interesting picture of a horse drawn load of drums. There is a picture of Thomas Jensen, who died from injuries received when he stopped a run-a-way team in Westfield in 1913 -- a real hero for he saved the lives of a woman and two children. A lot of you remember, as I do, the big watering trough in the Gorge where we often stopped to drink from the pipe running alongside for that purpose. It was a dandy place to 11 water 11 the old Ford as it began to heat up on its climb towards home. Though it doesn't seem so, that road is a gradual uphill grade all the way. There was the old Moore place, many of the Spelman homes on South Lane, six or seven at one time I believe, also the home of Orson Gibbons, now gone, with the old gentleman in the doorway. It stood near the junction of South Lane and the East Hartland road. He was Roland Oveson 1s grandpa. There is a good picture of Bert Robert's stage, a four seater wagon, horse drawn. Woman are picking cranberries in the old bog off the Old Westfield Road. There is a picture of the Holcomb brothers shop on Water Street near �the Joseph Peterson home, which has long smce burned. I have one taken m about the same vicinity, which is labeled "Pitman and Drums Factories", Granville, Massachusetts-- sure would like to know about .thfil_! There is a picture of a small boy with a team of oxen standing in front of Deganos, now Tryon's store, also one of the interior of the old church on the hill with its gallery, seats, organ and stained glass window. I am very glad that mother had one of those too. It may have been taken about the time of the 1895 Jubilee. The Hartley family .a.n.d the family horse stand or sit in front of their home on Granville Hill. Very often old photos show the family dog as well! This place was for years the home of Ovilla Blakesley, though I am ancient enough to remember visiting the Hartleys with my mother. It seems to me every town had for sale comic postal cards and Granville was no exception--- one shows a pair of mules drawing a gigantic cucumber on a stone boat·, and one is a farm wagon load of winter squash-- about four of them-drawn by a horse. The caption reads -- "How We Do Things In Granville, Massachusetts." I mustn't leave out Dickinson's Mill and mill pond. Oh, the trips we made to it with cider apples, although in its earliest days it was not a cider mill but was used for various industries, including the manufacture of powder kegs, according to Albion Wilson, Historian. I could "carry on" a lot longer but many of the pictures are of places known to most of you. Seeing the old ones was for me a most interesting trip into the Long Ago Days. Leona A. Clifford ...J �May 1983 : i L- r I L_ r l_ [ ! L r L __ : i L r L [ r-1 ' L~ r L~ : I [ r l_ . [ Long Ago Days Another Memorial Day approaches when "limited nuclear war", -heaven forbid, -- is being discussed, when the world is full of "hot spots" and when any kind of brotherly love is sadly lacking. It seems to me that we should stop to consider lessons that, as a country, we should have learned from history but never have! When this town was settled in 1738, our country was still involved in the French and Indian Wars, which from the onset of Queen Anne's War in 1702, until 1763, SAVED England and us from the "red menace" and the French. In our older cemeteries rest several veterans of that conflict. Albion Wilson lists only James Burt of Tolland, then Granville, as the only one but there were others including Phineas Pratt, Edmund Barlow, and several of the Spelmans and I am sure there are others if one could research the records of all our earliest families. In 1775, along came the Revolution to SA VE us from the heavy burdens (taxes), laid on us by the England we had just helped to SA VE from the French, etc. I often wonder if the 200, more or less, men who are credited by Mr. Wilson to that war -- incidentally the largest number from Granville who ever went to MY war--could rise from their final resting places, what they · would think of today's taxes. They underwent ill many excruciating hardships and deprivations. They learned about hard times after the war was over and how to make do with what was at hand or do without. They must be spinning in their graves! 1812: There are no exact figures for this one but Gran ville is credited with around 90 soldiers. After once more showing England a thing or two about life on the high seas and getting, at least, a treaty that settled little or nothing, we had a "breather" until 1861. By then slavery was being hotly discussed. There was much disagreement and rivalry between the industrial North and the agriculture South. Slavery seemed a good point to home in on, Granville sent 110 men. The huge plantations in the South kept most of the countries slaves, but from America's earliest days affluent and prestigious people throughout the land had them too. This war is said to have been the cruelest on earth and until W.W. II, the one in which more lives were lost than any other. Many died in the hell holes that were prisoner of war camps, of disease. Neither side had the where-with-all to care for their prisoners, nor for their troops, for that matter. In the long run however, from 1861-1865, the slaves were freed, but to a life in which they suffered, many of them worse than they had in slavery, �not all owners were Simon Legrees. It has been a long hard road to real freedom and many still walk that road! I know of no one who went to the Spanish American War from here but as it only lasted a very short time there probably was not time to get organized! In 1917, we got involved, overseas this time, in World War I. Thirty names grace the Memorial stone at the Town Hall. This was the war to end all wars almost 70 years ago. After it was over the late great Will Rogers said he hoped everyone would remember that the future of American youth lay on top of American soil, not underneath European mud! It was a pipe dream! In 1941 ,73 or our town's finest were again on their way overseas--worldwide this time. In rapid succession came Korea and Vietnam. No real peace has come in either case. God only knows where it will all end. One way about it to my way of thinking is that the limited nuclear war I mentioned in the beginning will truly be the one that ends all wars and civilization as well--a pretty drastic cure all! This year on Memorial Day, more and more flags will fly over veteran's graves worldwide. Parades and speeches will be the order of the day. We can do no less, considering all their sacrifices, which to me seem to have been oft in vain, BUT, a lot of prayers for peace should be rising to the Almighty and every American should become involved in every way he can to try to see to it that wars will truly come to an end before they end us 1 Leona A. Clifford �~ ! r I L June 1983 Long Ago Days ~ I L ~ ' I ,---i ' ! L~ t i : L L ! i L r I , __ : Most of the time every weekday, if we are so inclined, we watch a steady procession of "soap operas" with their multitude of soap advertisements. It is amazing to contemplate all the trials and tribulations of the former and all the bald-faced deceptions of the latter which are quite apparent to me after a seventy year acquaintance with many kinds of soap. It is best to skip the "opera"(! watch Guiding Light myself when I'm home though whom or what it is guiding it.. is hard to say. I just hope it isn't being taken for the best way to live by any of my grandchildren!)and get down to the "ads". What is "clean, honest soap"? This one is for Ivory, 99&99/100% pure, but pure what? Another one is silly to the point of being ridiculous. They are using slivers of their favorite soap so small( four people are bathing with it by the way) that most of us would have, once upon a time, 1). put it in a soap shaker along with other slivers to be used in helping with dishes, etc. or 2). do what we probably would do now, throw it out! In every town in its beginning, soap was pretty much a necessity, and one of its components was potash. There were many small potash operations in Granville. I find reference to many of them in old deeds. One of them was on what is now Bill Heino's property near where Potash Brook still runs. Potash, sometimes referred to as pearl ash, or if your scientifically minded, potassium carbonate was obtainable in those days by leaching or running water through the ashes of burned wood and boiling down the solution in large open kettles. The residue-- a white solid, was called potash because it was made from ashes in pots. This type, made from leaching, was used in the preparation of crude soap. It was extremely strong stuff and its manufacture had many hazards. In 1770 or 1780-- the record varies-- Ephraim Munson died from being scalded in a potash kettle. There were probably others. Like lye, it was hot even when cold. Several scaldings are recorded in 11 Granville Vital Records to 1850", but the cause is only given in Mr. Munson's case. Potash kettles were a very likely cause of others. I remember when people still made soap, although powders, such as Rinso, and bars, such as Octagon for household chores and Ivory for personal use had pretty well taken over. My mother made it a few times--probably hot 99&99/l00ths pure but it ~ honest and it worked. It would clean the house, the occupants and the laundry. Sometimes a mild solution was used to ttde-bug" house plants. Women were apt to have rough hands from all the scrubbing jobs but there was always old fashioned rose water and glycerine which you could also �make yourself if need be and it probably worked as well, if not more, than the fancy creams of today. These concoctions, in endless variety, are touted as magic cure-alls for roughness, dryness, age spots or whatever suffered by pampered ladies in satin nighties lying on satin sheets with hands that don t tell my age hands so perfect you know darned well the only work theive done is to lather on more cream! To get back to soap making-- In the winter women saved all the kinds of grease around the house, and not being aware of cholesterol, and cooking lots of meat from the fall butchering there would be a considerable accumulation of it. In the spring this would be dumped into a kettle of cold water and brought to a boil. When it was strained and set aside to cool a large cake of clean white fat would rise to the top. This was melted, a certain amount of lye was added and it was stirred until well mixed. Mother s recipe also called for a mixture of 1/2 cup of ammonia, 1/4 cup of borax, 1/4 cup of sugar and 1/4 cup of kerosene which was stirred until well blended and added to the grease and lye when they first joined forces, why I don t know. Some of it could be put into a tub for soft soap. The rest was poured into pans, scored into bars and left to harden. If you liked, a few drops of perfume oil could be mixed in for hand soap. The whitest batches were the ones usually given this treatment. The household variety had no perfume or deodorants. It was just about as plain a soap as you could get. A large cake stood beside the kitchen sink in an old fashioned soapdish with holes in its top rest where it could drain into the bottom and keep itself dry. The soft soap accumulating there could be used for any purpose. It really cleaned things. Some folks accused it of cleaning the skin off your body and the paint off the walls but anything scrubbed with it smelled clean and good. Talk about April Fresh! Leona A. Clifford 11 1 ' -- 1 1 11 11 1 �[ [ National Aldrich Family Association [ [ ' , 1 ' lf ,f1D/;t,17. tJ,J,is t3rou12 f.ifk .be .hP14&?:g its~ ,t,'0'en~ieJ,~.i~pn.µa.~ meeting ;;);i.pr:e ; i~ f I (ib;f1;njYi~tr1 1;'9:9Y.,vY-(n~: bl~ slerx,9di i ,4:1r1~er aJ }RP .;E:i4PP\?r~ G~R{~✓h ..$,ia~1.Jrpay ,1yve1;1/Df~,. a~q ~41.qtt~l).?:ns:~rv.~?t~~ Jp~re~£?i~nc\ay; 1 .·:,··., 1 Firemen's Auxiliary will serve a buffet ·1unch for them on 'Ir;·/ "('./.I '.' .and.• ' it1 will f' be Suiidaf '. ' ' followed by the annual business meeting before adjourning un'tiL' July~·'J984: O,n: lµJy ~qi-12:i_~.~:.::·T~? I [ :6:~!:!hi!t~.w~.i~~!ii f~~~f~U~.:.1.,~st~rfl:t,.\t?:ri't:l1 i~= !;{;~~$i.ttr.i'il~~~fst ~ 1 1 [ [ . '' .itl.,;,t" ~ •J.\J,:;,,; 11 ; .t)d.L .:i.1:"i.1 ::\ v;t '/!'1/;,,.,~ fi.f../-!Jl :!! :··~ :,( Jf~hfJt·;,-1:f 1 ,, ·' ' ed ;••' Ill . fi.~e. '· chur9~~s -~J,l }~;YTh½t ,~n'.9'. iiB nY!i i-µranxi}l,e:p ~9P~~ }}ltd' ~-0,J~t;Wr:w~f~·, ;~ perrm.~tµ1g. ){ tfHff 51£1 y.o_u ;!'UJ?i 19-t:9 ,,arw ;;of,11:si 4RPfl-p _t~y~(:r ~";\';? ,a~x~,}ay H1[ Wc, 1re,.;JL f]iie;p,@y. group. ,·. 1_, ; ,,, :, l :;,!'i,..-. 1,.,.:) ; . . ., ,. , .· ~~o;na 1\ . ,Cliff.9rd, . h~Y?id~p.t ~·; ~~ 1 ,: ' f • .. 1 1 / • ,i ' t.i [ - ';, [ ' t ' .. ,. [ ,· 1 J [ I',·. ' [ ,I '•'l •. · [ "J;, ;} J )',.-' [ 'l. f, ·' [ . ) •• ,'. [ 't ., • f :' ,'. ~- :.· ,· [ [ [ ,., ' j J' ,r•.i..-. .''.i '1 :.,.., i;1, '.· •• i ~ ) ,.,. . • ',!, 1' .,_. ' ~., ' •;_1 . ' ""◄ t ,: .... , , \ •J J ' ·• 1.' . .' I ~ • I I / I ,',i . �July 1983 Long Ago Days In Benjamin Jones scrapbook, which I refer to often there are two letters written by Elizur Moore of Tolland to a newspaper, the Litchfield County Leader, in August, 1881. I think, not only Tolland people but all of us might be interested. He wrote: To the Editor: I see occasionally in your columns, something about Tolland, and being the oldest inhabitant born in town nearly 81 years ago, I thought I would tell your readers something of the early history of Granville and Tolland, they being one town until 1810. Town meetings were held in the middle parish, (West Granville now). East Granville, I think, had the first Meeting House. It stood north of the road that turns south after coming up the east mountain, (Barnard Rd.). It is said that women walked from the west parish to the east parish to church. There were no wagons in those days, men and women both rode horseback if they had horses. Women rode double, a pillion being fastened on behind the side saddle, which made a very comfortable seat. The roads were made by simply digging out the stones, no turnpikes being made. About four roads were laid out called the old Proprietors roads, two running north and south, and two east and west, no matter how rough the ground, some of them over the steepest hills in town. The first scraper I ever saw used was a slab with a sled neap fastened to it. My father and brothers got the first iron scraper, the first cart, and the first wagon in our part of the country. The hay was all got in on an ox sled or rolled in. The three parishes settled ministers about 1795--1797. (?). East parish, Dr. Cooley, born and settled in the parish; Rev. Joel Baker in the middle parish; Roger Harrison in the west parish. Mr. Harrison had a $200.00 salary. Dr. Cooley and Baker a little more. It was raised by an equal tax on all the parish same as the town tax. Dr. Cooley was a remarkable good sermonizer. Mr. Baker a remarkable man in prayer, and Mr. Harrison a remarkable singer who could sing anything in sight. He delighted in singing alto and treble. It is said at one time when he exchanged with Dr. Cooley, he sang the Judgment Anthem and it so charmed one of the Dr's scholars that he fell into his arms! Middle Granville had a very enterprising class of inhabitants. Col. Timothy Robinson, one of the First, lived where R. Fenn now lives. (Albert Sheets place, old house). Hezekiah Robinson, shoemaker (and Justice of the Peace many years). The Parsonses, Levi a blacksmith, Dea. Parsons, Sam Parsons, Joel Parsons.; John Phelps, lawyer, also first Sheriff of Hampden County, a gentleman who would never pass a school child without making a ~, �[ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ bow or speaking pleasantly(lived where Bert Hill does). Levi Curtiss was a mechanic, Noah Cooley ran the store, Patrick Boise was a lawyer. Dea. Adkins was a hatter, and there were many more prominent men. Our grist mill was where or near where James Johnson's sawmill was burned on the east side of the bridge, (State Forest Rd.) on the Hubbard river. All our rye, corn, provender and salt was carried there to be ground, in summer by a boy on horseback with four or five bushels at a time. Oh; how sleepy I have been riding to mill on a hot summer day! Mos't everybody but mechanics raised their own grain. Sometimes we raised summer wheat so as to have some to make a chicken pie for Thanksgiving. We raised our own flax, spun it and wove it. Every town had a nail-maker. Nails were about a shilling a pound and calico was a shilling a yard. All agree that we have had a hard winter all over the world. It was said by our fore-fathers that 1780 was a terrible hard winter, the snow above all the fences. A great many deer were killed, as the snow being soft and deep they could easily be killed by men on snow shoes. By the first of April the snow was so hard that ox teams could go across lots and woods anywhere with full loads. It went off by sun; at the first of May cattle could live well, there being no frost in the ground. I will write more about Tolland next week. Respectfully, Elizur D. Moore Mr. Moore was the son of Marvin Moore and the great uncle of Florence Sussmann of West Granville. NOTE I wish to thank all my friends, especially the Granville Seniors, for the many beautiful cards, plant and candy that I received while I had my small vacation at Noble Hospital, also for the many telephone calls from concerned citizens. I deeply appreciated them all. Leona A. Clifford �August 1983 Long Ago Days SECOND LETTER OF ELIZUR MOORE: 1881 The Hamiltons in the east part of town, large land owners and a large family are gone from town and dead except Kate, widow. (They had three houses including the Brunk place, one a bit further west, same side and one or two further west on the north side of the road.) Next was Stephen Goff whose wife was a woman doctor. Next lived the Pomeroys where Daniel Spring lives. (Now Maurice Carr.) Next was Mr. Handy, a farmer who always went barefoot as soon as the snow was off. Philip Parsons was a shoemaker and John Hamilton a weaver by trade; Gail (?) Hamilton, a large family went to Illinois. One of the girls made the shroud of Joseph Smith, the Mormon leader, who was shot a Navoo, Illinois. Of the Rogers family, Martin, John, two of Martins and one of---, are all that are living. Titus Fowler, my grandfather, moved into town just before the Revolutionary War. He said he heard the cannon all day at the battle of Bunker Hill, from his place near the center. He was a Justice of the Peace and a prominent man and had three sons and three daughters. At the time of Shay's Rebellion, Esq. Fowler and Col. Robinson started for Springfield. Mr. Shay took them at East Granville, kept them overnight and let them go on to Springfield. The next day they had the decision at Springfield on State St. General Shepard, Grandfather of Dea. George Shepard of Granville had charge of the militia. Rev. Roger Harrison built the house on the corner. (Now Bonadies) Dea. Gates blacksmith shop was a little east of it. Solomon Cowles lives on the south corner, the chimney was on the outside of the house. One day he whipped a colt which he had in the barn. The colt kicked him in the head and broke his skull. The doctors took out one quarter of the brain over his eye but he got well and lived a good many years, a great reader and quite an intelligent man. Next was David Wright, nailmaker, then Archibald Wright on the old road north, Joel Glason, Dr. Wright, Solomon and Thomas Rogers. Then we come to the Twinings. Dea. Thomas Twining had two sons, Stephen and William. Thomas and son William owned the grist mill at New Boston. Elijah Twining had four boys. They came from Cape Cod (Eastham), as also the Hardings, Higgins, and Rogers. (The latter descendants of the Mayflower). They were all good inhabitants. It is said, how true I don't know they had heard of tapping trees for sap and tried one. It did not run so they put a log chain around, put in a lever and twisted, but it would not run. North of Hardings was Wm. Freeman, Ephraim Snow, Jonathan Amisse and Eli Clark. Most are gone. Now nobody farms it as we did when I was young; then we cleared a new piece for _J ~ 7 I ...J �l. [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ [ r ! l~ grain every year, made some stonewalls, but now it is a rare thing to see a stonewall well built or bushes cut on mowings and pastures. The latter do not keep 1/4 the stock they used to. Burt Hill was named for a first settler, Caleb Burt. He and his sons built the tannery at West New Boston. Clark Dorman dressed cloth for a while on Colebrook River. Soloman Freeman married Rebecca Torrey, a widow--had five children. He complained she was crazy--if so it was because of his unfaithfulness to her, which was not generally known. He finally committed a rascally act and fled. Giving his note for all the cattle he could buy, he sold them and escaped with the proceeds, taking another man's wife with him! Some of this creditors had demanded security and my father, Marvin Moore, signed a note for him for nearly a thousand dollars to Curtis Parsons(By the way he had paid $40.00 for the wife.) Mr. Freeman's farm was attached but few of his creditors got anything. My father had to mortgage his farm to pay the note and in the end I had to pay 1/3 of it. (A neighborly deed backfired. as sometimes still happens.) You may copy this paper if you wish for Mrs. Bates and Calvin. (It was apparently written to his grandson in Winsted, Connecticut) This is all they published, yet there is more about the South Quarter, but they have left out some and made a good many blunders. END. (The South Quarter generally considered by my folks to be in the area where John Battistoni lives, also Ronald Messenger and others.) Many houses are now gone, some of which were standing in my day. This is true of a lot of both Tolland and Granville now. Some new construction goes on but so much acreage, where once were many homes, has gone to the State Forests and the Springfield, Hartford and Westfield Water companies plus private camps, etc. that our towns will never be the same again. The old neighbors of my family's five generations in West Granville, 99% in their graves, are being replaced by an entirely different type of people. (Not too interested in the town if the turnout at town meetings is any example) To me it is sad! Leona A. Clifford � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Documents, Articles, Other Printed Material Description An account of the resource Documents relating to Granville history. To view a larger version of any document, click on that document, then click the image thumbnail on the document's page. You will then see a full-size image including a "zoom" function which will make reading text easier. If you have old Granville documents to add please contact the library. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource "Long Ago Days" (PART 2 of 4) by Leona A. Clifford (1912-1990), Originally Published in The Granville Country Caller Description An account of the resource "Long Ago Days" by Leona A. Clifford (1912-1990), Originally published in The Granville Country Caller between January 1980 and January 1990. When Leona Aldrich Clifford passed on in 1990, her Country Caller articles were compiled by Ralph Hiers and reprinted in book form. All these copies were sold to benefit the Granville Library Club. In April of 2000, the Granville Historical Society invited Leona's granddaughter, Darcy Clifford Cooley to talk about her Grandmother at one of their series on the history of Granville. The talk was so well received that the Society asked Teddi Daley's 6th and 7th grade media classes at the Granville Middle School to retype the articles for republication. Chris Teter, Joan Clendenin, and Tiffany Blakesley also assisted with the typing and the Granville Historical Society members assisted with the proofreading and publishing. Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource Published 1980-1990 and 2000. Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource The Granville Library Club, the Granville Historical Society, and the Clifford family. May not be reproduced without permission. Granville Leona Clifford Long Ago Days Massachusetts West Granville https://d1y502jg6fpugt.cloudfront.net/34234/archive/files/d7606a1759a11c579839949db5e22f28.pdf?Expires=1776902400&Signature=pLo6itiQEMLSxnxPKWwCpKeOwIgbyiYPnutHkQIYuPygNuO9pr9QYc78h0sDjIExeXeUOcUWE%7EiI4utWrIyr6iNScMzn9sfWb1Sb7HkT6Z7E7cN%7EoQPYBH0yaAvRei1EfeL1gQ3JeHBTGeXIbHbdjfZxYRLXKU8dyqydwlsEZTPRyBcVqErNAq-V5HvYTd5jHdN49t5XNu7idi16Bmm9lid0%7EW47cBWzxl41P-j-uRJtw4HD2acZbNmXvyJ3Rpcd9irwrJwCIfGopy8-Xm3vMbK640IQx%7E8inGfYyzXp1uhuCRGa02z47%7E1oQRIjT3L8KOwpkVxXO72u6lxdEfOKxw__&Key-Pair-Id=K6UGZS9ZTDSZM 8cab53d06275b392685b1f5b48ca05c8 PDF Text Text September 1983 Long Ago Days School days, school days, Dear old Golden Rule Days, Readin and writin', and rithmetic Taught to the tune of the hickory stick--- , 1 Anyone remember that old tune? Well, summer vacation being about over here they come again! ---minus of course, the "hickory stick"! I dare say discipline problems were fewer when it was around. Be that as it may, those days are gone for better, for worse, who can tell. Ih..a1 problem ~ in many cases, become much worse---all you have to do is read or listen. Long ago on the first day of school off we went to Ore Hill schoolhouse. Everyone had something new and special to wear. It might have been a "handme-down" but it was new to us and we felt pretty special in it, whatever it was! New shoes were always on the agenda although, Sept. being still pretty warm, at least part of it, many boys still went barefoot. Then there was a new pencil box, had to have them, not that such things weren't furnished but a new pencil box, perhaps with your name on the pencil carried a certain amount of prestige! Some years the same teacher would return who had "struggled" with us the year before, possibly longer. When you arrived on the grounds there was usually time for a game or two before the bell rang at 9 A.M. There was really nothing exciting then about the first day unless a new pupil or two showed up. BUT OH! if there .YL.M a new teacher coming in, one went agog with curiosity and some trepidation. One tried to size up the newcomer through a window or open door and wondered what the coming year was going to be like. In long, long, ago days most teachers were men. Sometimes a woman would teach the summer session. Many of them had little education. Very often they went from being a ninth grade pupil to becoming a full fledged teacher. My own aunt Jennie Nelson was one of those, and when I lived with her during my high school years, she could help me with filli. problem. In my nine grades of Grammar school our teachers were coming mostly from the eastern part of the state and from two years of State Normal School. My first teacher was the only exception during my nine years. She was Ruby Smith and had graduated from Monson Academy. I know very little about her except that one day, taking her for an easy mark, (I was almost five at the time), and being bored stiff, I told her I had to go right home at noon because my mother was taking me to the Doctor. She let me go and I don't remember the outcome, which is probable just as well, but she must have smelled a rat. �[ r· I L [ [ [ [ However I was only in school that year from April until June. Mother thinking a little indoctrination before first grade might do me good! My teacher was Bernice Dole from Billerica, Ma. and Lowell Normal, and before she finished her four years she was Bernice Nelson and also my cousin. I suppose I may have pulled a fast one or two on her also but I really don t remember. After her marriage she boarded for a time with my parents. Her husband was Harold Nelson Sr., mothers nephew, who still owns the Nelson farm in West Granville. Now, one had to be fairly good twenty four hours a day as it were. We got in wrong with her once while she lived there though. In her closet were many empty candy boxes, souvenirs from previous beaux and they had beautiful ribbons on them. We decided as they were empty she wouldn t care if we took some for our dolls, which we proceeded to do. We found out almost immediately that she did care very muchl Mother may have, and probably did warm our bottoms but she also promptly made some paste and we had to put back every single ribbon on every single box. I remember that lesson plain enough--- even at 71; You don t ever steal anything from anybody and if you do you pay! (one of the Golden Rule items.) Then for three years I had someone many of you know and all of you should, if not, yours is a great loss. Helena Duris W omboldt came from Newton and Framingham Normal. All the children loved her and she not only taught us but she did so many extra kindness, beyond the call of duty, for us, sometimes long after our school days with her were over. When she found out my sister and I were going out of State to High School, two years after she left Ore Hill, she gave us each a beautiful black shiny suitcase. What a thrill! Our very first ones! That will stick in my memory as long as I have onel There were many other things but I don1t want to risk embarrassing one of the best friends I ever had or ever hope to have, I must mention one more thing. You must know, if you have lived here long, her dedication to the beautiful Historical Room in the Library and to the Granville Historical Commission. Any town anywhere is fortunate to have her kind. My last two years Elsie Broga from Lee, Ma. and Westfield Normal came. She left then---- didn t marry here as many teachers formerly had---. I lost track of her until long afterwards when she came to Old Hone Day in West Granville and brought along her children. Children!? All were grown up and one was following in her footsteps at Westfield State College. Hard to believe. Where had the time gone? Your kids had grown up but somehow you hadn 1t expected her to 1 Good old days! Education has changed fil}.. much. There are lots of frills that we never had or ever wanted, which is not only costly but which would never get you a living. Most people I know don 1t agree, but boy! Way back 1 11 1 [ 11 11 1 [ [ [ [ [ [ r L~ [ [ [ 1 11 �then, sixty years or so ago, when we finished those nine grades we knew how to read, write, spell, sing, after a fashion and we had an introduction to art on Friday afternoons if we'd been good and if there was time to spare. We got our "gymnastics", if you will, on the school grounds in all our games, some of which were pretty strenuous as I recall. Most except for tag and hide-and-seek were products of our imaginations. Never a still moment at noon or recesses and we walked three quarters of a mile to and from the school house each day. Many walked farther. Those were really the Good Old Days, though I'm positive not one of us realized it then. As a sidelight I studied up on those days and ways in my collection of town reports of which I have a complete set since 1900 except for 1982 if it ever gets to town! They used to be on hand for town meeting but this another story. 1900: Nine classes, eight buildings. Teachers were paid for summer, fall and winter terms, $2183.60 for_ill! The Superintendent got $435.00 from the town but he was Supt. of the district so he must have received more. 1917: My first year. There were still nine classes and eight buildings, but things were looking up. The teachers got $3591.00. The Supt. $485.00. 1927: There were six classes, four buildings. The teachers Supt $1020.00. got $6875.00. The 1981: The last report I have, two buildings, eight grades and the teaching bill was $159,334.00. 206 pupils. This is about twice as many as when I attended. Only one thing remains the same---school expenses were and still are the biggest item on the town budget, while all we read in the papers and see on T.V. is about the many kids going into college who can't read, write, figure or spell. They1re great on getting sport scholarships however, so I suppose all is not lost. WOW! Leona A. Clifford ' 7 ' 7 �~ I ! I L October 1983 ~ ' ' L j i ' I i I L_, i l~ i L 'L I ! ! L... [ i L_ L _ Long ago Days A while ago Ed and Anna Jensen told me that there was in Granville some years ago, a farmers Co-operative Exchange and they thought it would be interesting to tell about it. Very few remember it and very few are living who belonged to it. Shortly after I talked with them one: of their record books, or possibly the only one was turned over to the Historical Room by Walter Phelan. When it was in existence and active I was very young. At that time just about every man in town was a farmer and kept a few cows, chickens, a pig or two, in some cases sheep, farm horses or whatever. A few sold milk. The Champlins, who lived where the Galegos do now, had a dairy business and delivered milk door to door. Others sold butter, eggs, chickens, potatoes, half a freshly butchered pig or quarter of beef if they had a surplus. Cyrus Ives and later his son-in-law, William Cooley had a regular butter and egg route in Winsted, Ct. every Friday for years, but the other things were sold when they had too much of a given thing for home use. Each farm had at least one orchard, large or small. Most of these were in East Granville but Grandpa, (Major Nelson) Will Reeves, Gilbert Miller and later Steve Roberts had sizable ones in West Granville, and Austin Phelon on Beech Hill. Now there are only a few large ones where apples are the chief business of the farm where they are raised. Only two or three large dairy farms remain. The rest of the old ways are long gone. Pi tty!!! It was fun to have animals around and it was fun at apple picking time at home. Every weekend Uncle Olin Nelson would bring up men from Bristol, Ct. where he lived and worked for New Departure Co. to help and the rest of the time daddy and grandpa did the best they could. When load after load had been taken in the old farm wagon to the house and those for our own use were safely in barrels and bins in the cellar, and the others had been sorted and sold to the dealers who came every fall, it was fun to gather up the cider apples and carry them to Howard Dickinson's Mill. It was even more fun to more fun to go after the cider whilst anticipating how good it was doing to taste and thanksgiving would never have been the same without it. But to get back to the Co-op. On page 74 of the Treasures book there is a notation that the date of the chapter for this organization was Jan. 17, 1917. It was No. 121 under Mass. law. On its first page there is a list of some 37 names and it seems as if the late Peter Hedrickson was the one who got it started. Howeverthe sherter itself is missing and actual records begin Feb. 14, 1921. Receipt accounts were for grain, fertilizer, spray materials, sheres of �stocks, cider mill account and interes. Its disbursements were for grain, fertilizer and spray materials, plus $10.00 to Alex Brunk for a sap pan and $1.50 to silas Root for a deed. Later they mentioned salaries for their manager and treasurer, names not given, filing a "certificate of condition" and taxes of various kinds. In 1921 it sold 102 shares of stock at $5 .00 a share, bringing m $510.00, and $567 .00 worth of cider. This seems to me to have been a considerable amount for those days. In June of 1921 they began to _ accumulate a building fund which by years end was $1905.72 and they bought land and built what is now Humphreys garage. They also bought a cider mill, value Dec. 31, 1921 $300.00, an engine, value $175.00 and a fertilizer sower, value $25.00 which they rented out for $1.00. (per day?) They seemed to be doing rather well but by 1925 the cider buisness was slipping and they gave it up. The building was sold to Ernest Humphrey Mar. 19th and on April 24th the cider mill was moved by "E.J. K.H. and R.D. --no doubt Ed. Jens en, Karl Hansen and Richard Dickinson. In 1923 312 shares of capital stock were listed, still at $5.00 per. and the surplus was healthy but the writing was on the wall--farming except for apples was slipping a bit. The spray material was growing. By 1928 the grain account was dropped . The rental of the fertilizer sower remained at some time back there. The late Cosepin Dickinson became agent for Eastern States Farmers Exchange and and s7v to the farmers needs as to grain and fertilizer and I presure anything else to do with farming. Also various dealers in Westfield would deliver to the door. There were several then but now down to Agway and Methe. Apples don't need grain: In 1935 59 members received a small divident. The Co-op must have filled a gr:eat need in its day but "the timed they were a changin" and big things were gobbling up small things. I think this was especially true of farms in America. By 1968 several years were showing a loss and no business can run that way. The last year of records was 1973 although the other years to 1981 are listed. On July 16, 1981 they had some money in ,their bank account and on Aug. 21, that year the few living members voted to dissolve the organization. They turned over as gifts, $731.17 to the Ambulance fund and $500.00 to the Restoration fund of the Granville Historical Society. Thus enden one more of the formerly very worthwhileprojects in town. It had lost its usefulness for many reasons and had joined the "limbo of the lost" if you will! Call me a "fuddy duddy" if you will! P .S. I would love to hear from anyone who ever knew anything more about the Co-op. There must have been much more to tell. Leona A. Clifford 11 ..__J �- ----------------~-~--------------------- i i L i L : i L i ; r I L~ i I L, ,I ! [ i I I L_. i L '' ! I L i L November 1983 Long Ago Days If we could only see far back into the early days of Granville we would be in for some surprises. It is easy to picture Sybil Root coming on horseback from Hebron, Connecticut in 17 67 to visit her betrothed, Edmund Barlow, who was busy setting up their future homestead and returning whence she came. What young lady would like to undertake, now-a-days, a similar trip of 40 miles or better each way thru what amounted to a wilderness for the most part, with its compliment of bears and wolves roaming about---Oh yes---a bounty was paid in Granville beginning in 1767 on the latter, two pounds per grown animal and one pound per wolf whelp for they become a nuisance. I'm sure I wouldn't have dared! Not me! Or, how about the Twinings and Rodgers families coming into Tolland, a few years later from Eastham on Cape Cod? Did they walk? I have heard they led a cow or two all the way! It has been said they carried a very young pear tree with them and that it prospered and bore fruit for many years. Most of the settlers arrived the hard way but it was the way of the times, either on horseback or by "shanks mare"! Not everyone was affluent. Many had very little of this worlds goods as we think of them now-a-days. Because of this fact I was quite startled to hear of a record of· a very wealthy settler who came to town about 1758 and of whom I had never heard. I decided to look into it further. What I found was both interesting and frustrating. Who was George Lason? There are two deeds, one to him and one to his wife. Sarah at the registry in Springfield and an inventory of his estate plus papers granting guardianship of two daughters to his wife in the Probate records in Northampton(All probate records up to 1812 are there but all property deeds are in Springfield). He left no will and may have been fairly young at his death. One of the deeds reads, in part, date of Oct. 27, 1758, know ye that I Samuel Hubbard, Jr. of Granville in the County of Hampshire and Province of Massachusetts Bay in New England, weaver, for, and in consideration of the sum of 40 pounds, lawful money, to me in hand paid before the ensealing hereof by George Lason, etc. etc. etc. do freely, clearly, and absolutely give, grant, bargain, sell, aline and release, convey and confirm unto him land lying in Granville and containing 105 acres. etc. (After all that I think you might assume he did indeed own it!) His wife, Sarah, bought 20 acres about the same time. Sad to say. in 1760, George died leaving Sarah and at least two daughters Sarah June and Anne who were put under her guardianship at their request. �He dying intestate, Stephen Hickox, Samuel Coe and Timothy Robinson were appointed appraisers of the estate of which Sarah was administrator. The complete inventory fills many pages and I can't list all of it but among the most interesting items were: Value 105 acres of land 73 1bs. --10 shillings 1 negro, Primus by name 44 lbs. 1 negro, woman, Sable by name 44 lbs 1 negro boy, Peter by name 9 lbs. 1 set silver spoons 1 lb.--10 shillings 1 pair silver shoe buckles and 1 lb. --5 shillings knee buckles 1 gold ring 12 shillings 1 quadrant and 8 sea books 4 lbs. (also a sea chest) (Could have been a sea captain at one time) 32 assorted books, Bible, prayer books, histories and sermons 18 pewter plates 1 lb.--16 shillings I chain of gold buttons 7 shillings And much more of all kinds of animals, farm crops, household goods, and on and on to the value of 357 lbs 14 shillings 2 pence. I read a lot of old wills and as regards Granville people of that period I. have never seen an inventory like it. On October 30, 1969 there is another deed. Sarah Lason, wid., Sarah Lason Jr. and Anne Lason Alias Joyce, all of Middletown, Connecticut for consideration of 60 lbs. sold to Timothy Ives of Wallingford, Connecticut 105 acres of land. It is the same 105 acres purchased in 1758. This land lay on what is now the State Forest Road and seems to have been on the west side of the present road. The 20 acre plot was about where Alfred Latham lived in grandfather's day and was purchased by him, though more than 20 acres then, when Wid. Mary Latham sold it. So it is now part of the present Nelson farm, so far I haven't found the sale of Sarah's plot but I shall keep trying. There is no record of the burial of George Lason in Granville in those early days and information about him is pretty scanty but I shall try to trace him back. Knowing that he spent even two short years on the land where I grew up and which I shall dearly love until I die will keep me looking. So far it continues to be a fascinating mystery. Note-In the Published Granville Town Records to 1850 in the deaths: 11 Primus, colored man, found frozen on the mountain m 1768". Leona A. Clifford �December 1983 Long Ago Days [ [ i L ' L ! I L - ! l__ [ ,, [ I I L, I ; L~ [ [ L L ' Granville Beginnings Part 1 Albion Wilson's History. On_ June 10, 1686, a large tract of land which included what is now Granville and Tolland was sold by Toto, an Indian Sachem, living near Hartford Connecticut to one James Comish. Cornish had settled in N ortharnpton and was the first school master there. He later moved to Westfield and was appointed Clerk of the Court of Hampshire County by Sir Edmond Andros, personal representative of King James II, who had instructions to call in the charters already granted to settlers of New England and set up instead Judges and officers for His Majesty's judicial courts, which is where James Cornish comes into the picture. (When Sir Edmond tried to take the charter of the 11 Colony of Connecticut 11 the people refused and hid theirs in the famous .Charter Oak! He became a very unpopular man. In 1689 King James II was overthrown and Andros was imprisoned at Boston and sent to England for a trial that never came to pass. In fact, he returned to Virginia in 1692 as Governor and became very popular. He died in 17}4. When the plans of Andros went awry and Massachusetts resumed a government under its charter, Cornish lost his job but the Court 11 applauded his good services and recommended him to public favor 11 • He had been a petitioner for Westfield to become a town on Jan. 21, 1668 and was one of the Grantees named in the deed of Alquot, the Indian Sachem, which conveyed the greater part of present Westfield, then W oronoake, to its inhabitants on June 30, 1669. He became very interested in Real Estate and knew a lot about the surrounding territory. He became the first white man to lay claim to that portion of said territory, then a wilderness, which included in part the present towns of Granville and Tolland. He was not attracted to the arduous process of actual settlement to gain land as was the common custom in those days but preferred to purchase it outright. It was not difficult to find the Indian Sachem who claimed to be its owner and possessed it by virtue of being the son of his father, who possessed it before him and the grandson of his grandfather who had possessed it before that! The Sachem was Toto and he deserves more than passing mention. He was a Poquonoc Indian and his tribe lived around the Farmington River area in the town of Windsor, Connecticut, near where the present village of Poquonock now is. The Tunxis Indians lived to the west �and the Podunks to the east of them. The grandfather had had dealings with the whites previously and were on good terms with them. Toto is credited with being in a class with Massasoit and Uncas and he richly deserves the gratitude of the people of the Connecticut Valley. But for him the now city of Springfield would have been wiped off the map and probably all the settlements along the river. He learned that the Indian fort near Longmeadow had received 300 of King Phillip1s warriors and that they would attack the town the next morning. Tradition says he ran all the way to Springfield and back home that night, and also got word to Major Treat who was in Westfield. Fact or fiction, he ,g_g_t the word to them. The people were incredulous and in spite of the warning suffered the surprise attack and were barely saved by the arrival of Major Treat and his troops. Thirty-two houses were burned and several settlers killed, including John Keep with his wife and infant child. John Keep was the direct ancestor of the Chapman and Henry Johnson families of West Granville and Clarence Mott of Tolland. So far as is known no Indians ever lived in Granville at that time. (John Mohawk owned land in the vicinity of South Lane I much later). The town boasts no Indian names and no relics have been found except one or two arrowheads by the late Raymond Noble in what is now Ralph Hiers' meadow. James Cornish got in touch with Toto and purchased from him a six mile square tract in the area in June1686. Tradition says the price was a gun and sixteen brass buttons and a short time past, Bonnie King wrote a delightful children's story about this, but it has never been proven. The deed says "for good and loving considerations" which could have been the said gun and buttons or most anything else that Toto considered of sufficient value and that Cornish was willing to pay. The deed is recorded in Book A page III of the Hampshire County land deeds, now in Springfield Registry of Deeds. It reads "the land to be six miles square, or contents thereof if the area is not square. It was bounded South by Simsbury, as it was then Westerly toward Housatunnick, bounded by the mountains, Easterly by land belonging to Westfield and Springfield, and Northerly by land previously granted by Toto to John Williams. How long and how wide does not appear. Toto personally appeared at Hartford June 28, 1686 and acknowledged "the above written deed to be his free and voluntary act and deed", before me, John Allyn, Assistant of His Majesties Colony of Connecticut. Thus was the first page of Granville's history written. (And recorded by Granville's historian, Albion Wilson). Leona Clifford �January 1984 Long Ago Days Granville Beginnings What became of James Cornish after 1689? It is believed he went to Simsbury, Ct. to live with a son. He had two, Gabriel and James Jr. James Sr. diedoin Oct. 20, 1698, intestate, and our " Town of Granville" became theirs. Gabriel married and had two children- James and Demaris, he died in 1702. He also left no will and the owners were now three, those two and James Jr. James (3) joined Queen Anne's Army or Navy about 1710 when he was twenty-two but before leaving for Port Royal he made a will Aug. 17, 1710, and well that he did for he never returned. Damaris, who married William Fuller of Simsbury, came into possession of her brother's estate. However, the impulse for speculation was still thriving and brought about further progress toward settlement, when Atherton Mather, a planter of Suffield, Ct. , which at the time belonged to the Mass. Bay Colony, found that the tract of land west of Westfield could be bought at a price. He looked it over and agreed to pay thirty pounds in current bills of credit for this wilderness and the deal was consummated June 26, 1713 at Simsbury. Once more the parties to the transfer went home happy-- the sellers with their thirty pounds and the buyers with their deeds. Land values had risen from the traditional gun and sixteen brass buttons! Another page had been written but there was neither name nor settlers. Indeed, up until this time, no definite line had been settled among Mass. and Conn., but one was finally decided upon July 13, 1713, less than three weeks after the sale by a commission appointed by both colonies. Mr. Mather was a very different sort from Mr. Cornish. After having secured his title, he next desired to turn his land into cash as speedily as possible. In order to do this, though land was fertile and there was much timber, it was of little value without settlers ... so settlers must be had! His acquaintances must have been wide, his business connections extensive and his energy without limit for in about twenty years he had sold the entire property between the western boundary of Westfield and the Farmington River, interpreting the expression in Toto's deed "westerly towards Housatunnick" as "westerly to a river," (known as the Farmington now), and the " six miles square or contents thereof' as being of no significance. More than a third of his buyers lived in the Boston area, the others lived in the various towns in the Conn. River Valley. His first sale, Aug. 13, 1715, conveyed 2,000 acres in three tracts to Dr. Oliver Noyes of Boston, Vol. C, page 180, Hampden County Registry of Deeds. ( The lake at Tolland's Tunxis Club has always been known as Noyes Pond--- the last reminder, as far as I �know of any of these original owners). In April 1719 he conveyed 1400 acres to son William and described said acreage as "being in the tract of land called Bedford, lying west of Westfield." So, at last, the wilderness that was someday to become Granville, had acquired a name and it was so called for the next twenty-five years. After these two sales he moved more rapidly toward his goal, two more in 1719, three in 1720, five in 1721 and ten in 1722. The ball was really beginning to roll! These deeds often referred to the "Plantation of Bedford". A plantation, however, presumes the existence of settlers and these it did not have. The Proprietors, as they were called, had no plans to live there. Profits were what was uppermost in their minds. All or part of Bedford had been surveyed and boundary points established as early as 1721 when a deed from Mather to Timothy Woodbridge and William Mather both of Simsbury, Ct. , conveyed 2,000 acres included in a survey by Jonas Houghton "and a deed of 1,000 acres to Timothy Boylston of Boston in 1731/32 reads", according to a survey by Mr. Timothy Dwight, Surveyor. It is probable, though, that a single survey of the entire area was not made until 1738. On Oct. 19,1733, Mr. Mather conveyed the last bit of his land. If he received all the "considerations" set forth in his forty-four deeds, and there is no reason to believed he did not, he had taken in 5377 pounds, 18 shillings, a tidy sum to realize on an investment of 30 pounds even though it took him twenty years. To go back to the 1738 survey. The proprietors, around fifty of them listed by Mr. Wilson, were having problems. Apparently there was no mad rush by the public so they decided to give some of their lands--- one fifth of each man's holdings, as an "encouragement to settlers." They would give 4,000 acres to forty families and any residue would be for Publik uses. This came about between 1722 and 1736 as they prepared for the 1738 survey. It had been rumored for some time and finally said out loud that there was trouble about the title which covered " six square miles." Bedford had become much more than that ---Nathaniel Dwight's survey dated Nov. 12, 1738 showed not 23,040 acres but 42,532--------quite a difference! They prepared, or had prepared, a petition to the Great and General Court in Boston saying that they "had purchased their land in good faith but that, while Mather sold the whole of the land they had bought, it didn't appear that he had the right to do so, of which, nevertheless, the petitioners were, at the time of their purchase, all together ignorant." They asked that their purchases be confirmed upon the condition that they "Do, within three years from the end of the Present Session of the Court(l 738), Build so many dwellings Houses thereon with what are already built to make Seventy in the whole and have Seventy families settled thereon and each of said families to have �six acres of land plowed or brought to English Grass and Fitted For Mowing, also within said time to build a Meeting House for the Publick Worship of God and settle a learned Orthodox Minister." It was quickly confirmed and bears the signature of Richard Saltonstall and date of Jan. 5, 1738, old style. They had wanted settlers and now the die was cast--they must have them by 1741 ! Mr. Wilson wrote; "Truly a Herculean task but what must be done 1s likely to get done especially if it hits hard on the pocketbook. It was unthinkable to go anywhere but ahead! Leona A. Clifford �February 1984 Long Ago Days Tradition has it that Samuel Bancroft was the first settler, arnvmg in 1735, but no deed is found. One from Jonas Clark of Boston in 1759, however, described a square mile "excepting, out of the same 100 acres granted to Samuel Bancroft and 18 granted to Nathaniel Bancroft for settling land," so he was an owner before that. (Lately, what is Samuel's first deed has been discovered in the Southern Berkshire Registry of Deeds in Great Barrington, Massachusetts. I do not know the details but I certainly plan to go out there when winter is over ... ) Rev. Timothy Cooley in his address at the Granville Jubilee of 1845, said he remembered Samuel and that he used to come to church in his great wig and cocked hat--- a conspicuous figure" He lived in the area of the Westfield Reservoir and I think there is a marker on or near his home site. Other prospective settlers, hearing of the proprietor's proposal to get seventy of them with 100 acres each, decided to look the situation over. One fact is ~ interesting. In some way, David Rose, who lived in Durham, Connecticut, heard about this promised land. He came, liked what he saw, picked his acreage, built a cabin, started his clearing, and moved his family there. In 1741, he bought 1500 more acres. He lived in the area around North and South Lanes in West Granville. As a child his home site was pointed out to me in the so called elm tree lot at the top of East Hill. It is pretty well covered with brush now, but I think the old ridges of its foundation must still be there. Either Mr. Rose had great powers of persuasion or else he was looked up to as a man of good judgment for as a result of his settling in Bedford no less that 26 other families very soon followed him from his former hometown in the "new township." They were as far as is known; Amos, Ebenezer and Ezra Baldwin Benjamin Barnes David, Jacob, John, John Jr. and Nathaniel Bates Isaac Bartlett Aaron, Samuel and Enoch Coe Aaron, David and Ebenezer Curtiss Roswell Graves Stephen Hickox Benjamin and David Parsons Phineas, Dan and Noah Robinson, also Timothy John Seward and �John Tibbals Later came Thomas Spelman, Israel Bartlett, Ezra Baldwin Jr., and Jonathan Rose. So far as is known, no other group of this size ever came from any other single town, but came they did in ones, twos, and threes from other places in Connecticut and Massachusetts and the oncoming "tide", after some trials and tribulations, kept on coming until the required 70 families had arrived. There is a list of 76 plus "three residents" June 20, 1750. They had built 73 dwelling houses and brought more than the required land to cultivation. They had become "embodied" in a church state and had chosen and ordained the Rev. Moses Tuttle to be their pastor (1747) and there was built a meeting house, which, "being by the Providence of God, consumed by Fire, " another was built and "all has been effected by the Carge of Owners said land." These churches are to presumed to have been near the corner of Regan Road and Rt. 57, near the Great Rock, long since gone. Although the way had been long and hard and beset with difficulties, the goal had been reached even though it was nine years later than the original requirements. Granville, nee Bedford, was all set to grow! Very few paths being easy, by now more problems raised their ugly heads. TAXES, the only sure thing except death, were needed--also assessors and other town officers to see to the needs. This called for a town meeting. Early records are missing or sketchy, but one was held in 1750--another in 1751. There was no clerk and neither was signed by anyone. After 1751 Ephraim Munson described himself as "Clerk of the Society." About that time also it was "voted said collector, Samuel Church, for collecting two year's rates, have 2 pounds." Not a very well-paying job! Approximately half the tax in those times went to the church and the rest for roads. So things went on rather muddled still. Up until this time, Bedford had no official existence. The inhabitants called meetings when thy needed money for public uses, levied the taxes, chose a collector, who collected and reported his take. It mattered not a whit what the Great and General Court of the Massachusetts Bay Colony really had no knowledge of their existence. With the self-reliance of hill-dwellers, they were quite able to take care of themselves. The spirit of America was in the making. However, then as now, demands for more and more public services arose. Each man's efforts along these lines were no longer adequate. They needed some legal status and petitioned to incorporate on October 26, 1753 at what turned out to be the last political meeting of the inhabitants of Bed ford. Incorporation had failed once before. Now Phineas Pratt, who had come from Hingham via Worcester, had become a prominent citizen, was voted to be the man to do something about it. He was the decisive type. It was a pretty safe �forecast that he would accomplish what he set out to do or know the reason why, and he either sent or took a petition to the General Court. It must have been complete and persuasive in its description. The bill was introduced to the legislators and it passed January 4, 1754. One change came, though-- it emerged with a new name. The Great and General Court, so far away from Bedford hills, knew practically nothing about it and so, when parts of Billerica and Concord had asked for incorporation as a new town in 1729, 1filU'.. were called Bedford. So it was necessary to find a new name and Granville was chosen. It seems very likely that some friend of Lord Carteret, Earl of Granville and President of the Kings council suggested the name. At any rate it was chosen. This year of 1984 the Lions Club calendar bears the likeness of the Earl of Granville and it was donated for the purpose by George Sattler who did quite some research into the man in London, England a while back. I hope that shortly George will write something about this research for the Country Caller. Get with it, George! NQfE: Taxes were, then as now, a burden sometimes, no doubt. Money is the current problem but in 1751, and for some time thereafter, Provincial and County and other taxes could be paid in certain marketable commodities-- such as GOOD codfish, iron, winter wheat, rye, Indian corn, barley, barrel pork, beef, long whalebone, beeswax, tallow, peas, wool sole leather, etc. Wouldn't we have fun scratching up the where-with-all for our taxes that way---as much if not more than our hardy forefathers did scratching up currency! Granville Beginnings Albion Wilsons History Part Three Leona A. Clifforc �March 1984 Long Ago Days Yesterday, after what seemed to me a cold winter, suddenly the thermometer shot up to 55 degrees. Every winter bird was peeping, chirping or singing and the promise of spring was in the air. In a very few days March will be here and usually March brings some ~ nice days. As a child this season brought about one of West Granville's event of the year. . . . the annual oyster supper. It was a special feast ---one did not suffer from an over-abundance of seafood in those days in the back country towns so it was a rare treat and greatly looked forward to. The oysters arrived in a large metal can from one of the Westfield stores. I believe it may have been from Schermerhorn's, which was there years ago. They probably arrived on the stage as most provisions did in those days. Huge kettles of oyster stew were served up by the Ladies Aid along with quantities of oyster crackers and other little goodies. There were always one or two souls who desired to have a few raw ones served up--- not like today's fancy appetizers---ice cold with cocktail sauce, lemon or a variety of accompaniments, but just plain to be downed enter a dash of vinegar, salt, and pepper. They looked sort of slithery, but, always having had the desire to try any food that others seemed to enjoy, I finally, after some years, decided to try them myself and found them very good indeed! I can't help but think that people who dislike lots of kinds of food never tried them and have missed out on one of the great joys of living! Church suppers were our social events back then in the small towns along with an occasional shower for a new bride or a new mama and an occasional housewarming. I was deeply hurt, if on rare "big nights" I missed one for some reason such as illness, which left me to the tender care of Grandpa Nelson for the evening! There was one of these suppers every two weeks in good weather (spring, summer and fall). They began with the oyster suppers and ended with the annual Christmas supper which was a "freebie." All the townspeople brought food and all ate it and enjoyed the Sunday School's Christmas program in the church next door complete with a tree and Santa Claus. Each child in town, without regard to race or color or creed, received a nice gift plus an orange--- no small thing years ago, plus a bag of candy. These were provided by the Sunday School with a BIG assist from our superintendent for years---the late James E. Downs. Mr. Downs was a well-to-do summer resident from Chicago who lived where Betty and Bill Heino do now. I remember him with great affection. �The general "run of the mill" supper was the one based on good old home baked beans. Whoever dreamed of using "boughten" ones then? These luscious, juicy viands were accompanied by homemade pickles or relishes of various kinds, with plenty of Grandma Sheets homemade rolls and her homemade butter. If those rolls she baked all the time were placed end to end I am sure they would have circled the Earth! For dessert there would be a mouth watering array of homemade cakes and pies and one ate one's fill while enjoying a good visit with friends and neighbors that, in most cases, one hadn't seen since the two weeks before. All this for the magnificent sum of ten cents!! After the eating was over all the ladies pitched in for the clean up. My mother was a dish washer par excellence, and I hated to think how many dishes she must have "shampooed" in the old West Granville Academy--thousands ! Meanwhile the men removed the tables to the kitchen and folded them against the walls and pushed all the chairs back. The two that were relegated to the kitchen were stacked, one on its legs the other bottom side up on top. These also received several sleeping babies before the night was over. Now it was time to sprinkle powdered wax on the floor. The children had a great time sliding until my dad got his fiddle tuned up and he, along with my mother at the piano, played for square and round dancing until midnight and "Good Night Ladies" heralded- the end of another good time. As the years rolled away, the suppers changed as does everything else in the world. Usually potato salad, scalloped potatoes, macaroni and cheese, coleslaw, sliced tomatoes in season, with sometimes boiled ham or dogs, began to appear on the menus. Homemade baked beans were still king, but now the rolls were delivered by a bakery truck and the butter came from the store. The price climbed ever upward and onward but you always got your money's worth. If you didn't, it was no ones fault but your own! Besides the oyster feast, two other special events occurred. In June the Strawberry Supper rolled around. It had the regular menu but dessert was strawberries---as they were on BISCUIT shortcakes---none of these sticky sponge cups! Accompanying them was homemade ice cream, several freezers of which, well packed ice, sat just outside the kitchen door on the old walkway. One year one freezer full had a slightly scorched taste. Whoever made it had burned down the custard that was used as its base, but ice cream was not such an everyday occurrence that it was thrown out. We ate it all --better by far than no ice cream at all. Then too, all those strawberries helped to make it palatable. Later, in October, the chicken pie supper was held. It took a lot of "doing" on everyone's part. Each family furnished a large chicken pie AND �their own chickens--- (fat hens most likely whose laying days were over), a quart of gravy, a kettle of either mashed potatoes or squash, or turnip or boiled onions, plus one or two dessert pies. We went to that one loaded down, as we ourselves would be later when we had polished off our share. I believe those suppers were about a dollar a person. Now all of this is long gone. The oyster suppers went first, after a disastrous date when the oysters arrived on time along with a blizzard that blocked the whole area and no one could attend. The oysters were salvaged by being sold around town, but the discouragement was complete. All the other ones continued on until well after I married my husband whom I had met first at the annual Strawberry Festival of 1933. I don't know the exact date when they were dropped on a regular basis, but will guess about 1940 or so. Today other churches and organizations are holding them once in a while so you can get to one or another most times and there are some excellent ones. Granville Federated Church has a great chicken pie supper. St. John's Lutheran in Westfield serves. and is coming up right away, an absolutely splendid sauerkraut feed. The church on Chester Hill has, in the summer, monthly suppers that are superb. Westfield Grange has fine ones the third Friday of the month. I can really enjoy any of them. However, I do miss the old fashioned ones I used to dote on. Most of all I miss those dedicated, friendly neighbors who worked so hard to make them all possible. There is a lot of pleasure and much sadness looking back to all those good times--- the highlights of my childhood as well as some later years in West Granville. As one song goes, "Those were the days, my friends . . . . . . . " Leona A. Clifford �April 1984 Long Ago Days -- Hubbard Mills In July 1747, Nathaniel Hubbard of Middletown, Ct., began to acquire land in Bedford. He bought 400 acres for 400 pounds from Noah Ashley of Westfield. In 1748 he bought ½ of 1534 acres from Jonothan Worthington. That same year he bought I 00 acres from Daniel Brown, blacksmith, to be his "settlin lot." Quite a sizeable estate! This man seems to be the father of the Nathaniel who had the mills. April 7, 1750. Book Y pg. 21 "I, Nathaniel Hubbard, of Middletown, Ct., for consideration of the paternal love, I bear my three sons, Nathaniel, Samuel and David, all of Bedford, in the colony of Massachusetts Bay, and for 60 pounds, which said Samuel paid towards it purchase, I do give .... etc ..... to my three sons my (by estimation) 400 acres in Bedford that I have bought of Captain Noah Ashley, July I 7, 17 4 7." Here follows a description of the boundaries in south west Granville. THEN---First I order that a highway be laid out athwart said land beginning I 0 rods eastward of the brook called Mill Brook, at the south side of said land and running two rods wide northward, where the path now is, to the north side of the land. Then I order that a piece of said land be laid out on the west side of said highway at the southern end for the convenience of a mill or mills to lie 3 0 rods wide and extend so far as, with said highway, to contain 10 acres. The said IO acres I give to all my sons in equal parts." The rest was divided between them, so many acres each. Thus, as far as I can ascertain, was born Granville's first mill or mills. There are hints of a "first mill, location unknown", and as Hubbard's deed calls his brook "Mill Brook", it may have been on it earlier. My family supposed that Hubbard's Mill was north of the Rt. 57 bridge near the Tolland line where much later Cyrus Ives had his shingle mill and that his house was probably, where old foundations and a small very ancient apple orchard and a good spring of water where, on the road that ran through Ives' sheep pasture to the river. However, from other deeds through the years, many clippings and Elizur Moore's letters, which I sent to the Country Caller a while ago, appears that they stood just west of the present bridge on the State Forest Road on the south side of the brook where large "laid up" stone foundations still stood until 1938/39 when the flood the former year and the building of a new bridge the latter year completely destroyed them. There was a gristmill and a sawmill, probably of the pit type. Nathaniel seems to have been the operator most of the time. Samuel sold his 1/3 to him and David in 1752 and I find no more record of David except that he died in the Revolution. In any case the mills did run and the town had 2 mills that were necessities if progress was to be made. For poor Nathaniel it was a rather shortlived venture for on April 20, 1762, he "drowned there at the time of a freshet while trying to repair his dam!" (having seen several "freshets" at this spot during my life-time, I can believe it!) Account of death is from Edward Days Hubbard History --- He left a wife Ruth (Barnes) and 6 children - one yet �unborn. She was a fourth generation descendant of Thomas Barnes of New Haven. Ancestor of all the early Barnes in town and on down to Sheldon Barnes still living in Granville. By 1764 the town had a surveyor of clapboards, shingles, hoops and staves, suggesting that the manufacturer of these commodities had reached a considerable volume, probably in more that one mill. Jonathan Rose had been granted the "sawmill Lot" for his settling lot and in 1780, Elinu Stowe, also a Middletown man, settled in the north part of town and set up a mill that was in operation for about 142 years and was in operation in 1894 when it was called the oldest in Massachusetts. In 1774, Nathaniel Hubbard (Jr.?) sold his holdings to Timothy Robinson, Aaron Coe and David Parsons --- "the Hubbard Mill lot: --- on which there is a corn mill, a saw mill, two houses and one barn --- and he conveyed all but his mothers third to them. She was by now Mrs. Joseph Clark. Later, David Parsons sold ¼ of the gristmill and 1/8 of the sawmill with the mill lot to Timothy Robinson, by then known as the Robinson Mills. In 1805 David sold his sons, Joel and Seth, ¼ of the gristmill lot. In 1812, Joel and his sister Catherine Booge, sold 1/8 part the Robinson Mills to Jesse Cornwell. Each was said to be "seized with their right of 1/3 of¾ of said property." There's something to figure out! It is a long story, but many transactions later, James Johnson came into possession. He made wooden articles - no more about the gristmill --. My grandfather, living just north of the mill during the later part of Mr. Johnson's ownership, called it the Bowl Mill and said it also made piano keys~ the wooden parts---. About 1881 the whole thing burned and Mr. Johnson declined to rebuild. Instead he sold out and moved to east Granville to the house where Miss Skelling lives now. Many people still in town certainly remember his daughter Jennie who married our town's Dr. Clifford White, and her mother who was the sister of Milton Whitney to whom Granville is indebted for its nice Library. After some years and various owners, all of this old mill tract and several hundred more acres were purchased by the State of Mass. In 1933 the C.C.C. Camp came in and turned some of it into the nice camping and picnic grounds, which are still there and much used. Since 1939 not a vestige of this once thriving enterprise remains. All that reminds us of the Hubbard Family is Mill Brook, now Hubbard River~ and a small family burial ground in the "North Quarter" the final resting place of Nathaniel's great-grandson, Alanson Hubbard, a Revolutionary Veteran. Two members of the family remain. One is Pearl Phelon, a ninth generation of George from Middletown and sixth from Nathaniel of the Mill. The other is G. Earl Miller who is the tenth generation from George and seventh from Nathaniel. To still have family members after 23 7 years is quite a record! Leona A. Clifford �May 1984 Long Ago Days I like Andy Rooney of TV's 60 Minutes. I have just read his book "And More by Andy Rooney." I think he's my kind of people. In it he brought up the subject of Memorial Day and his opinion that it isn't what it used to be ...... that i f ~ are remembered, as those who have gone before are, things don't look too good. He speculates that we are all a part of the lives out forefathers lived in the way we do things. Our habits and customs are oft times theirs. True! Memorial Day began in 1868 as a way of honoring the veterans of the Civil War. It has come to honor all veterans of the United States as well as our relatives and departed friends. The Stars and Stripes fly over all soldiers including those of the old French and Indian Wars who were loyal British subjects . There were several such in our town . I, too, think the " honoring has slipped from what it was when I was in grammar, and later, high school . " The Civil War veterans still rode in parades on that day. Children put their small bouquets of wild flowers and lilacs in old cans or jars of water and placed them fillll_ a small flag on each of the two or three graves the teacher had ....... assigned to them. Then we had "Exercises " m the cemetery---poems and other recitations such as Lincoln's Gettysburg Address, song, Tenting Tonight and Mine Eyes Have Seen the Glory. Our little hearts swelled with pride even if we didn't, in those long ago days, understand exactly why. Those were solemn, stirring moments! Understanding or not, I was impressed by the number of veterans buried in West Granville, mostly of the Revolution--Forty-two of them-with a few of 1812 and the Civil War, where we went each May albeit I knew nothing about any of them. Over the years I have learned a thing or two! Col. Timothy Robinson comes to mind, a real patriot and town leader. He was commissioned in Boston, Feb. 8,1776, and was in the Third New Hampshire Co. Regt. Samuel Thrall of Granville was Quartermaster in the same outfit. Timothy served in many places and was respected citizen and 'leading light' in town affairs. His grave stone says, "He was a Deacon of the church 30 Years. He lived respected and died lamented." There follows an inspiring epitaph! Jacob Bates was in Capt. Lebeus Ball's Co. of minutemen--was in Roxbury went to reinforce the northern Army under General Gates, supposedly was with Washington when he crossed the Delaware and also went to "quell the mob in Northampton " in 1782 . Capt. Benjamin Barnes was at Ticonderoga with Ethan Allen when it was captured from the British. We have all heard of Thans dramatic words on that �fateful night in 1775 --"Surrender in the name of the Great Jehovah and the Continental congress." Some historians think that more than likely, his speech was a little more "earthly. " When he disagreed with someone's idea that "cool it" at one of the conventions of the military, possibly the one at the Dorset , he informed those who didn't care much for his tactics that he was going home (into the mountains) and that the "law of the hills wasn't the law of the valleys, by God! He and his Green Mt. boys proved it, too! Over the years some descendants of Capt. Benjamin have had their ashes brought to rest near him. There's family pride for you. Capt. Aaron Coe was in Col. Robinson's Co. and went with him io lots of hot spots and also to the fracas in Northampton. Lemuel Haynes , West Granville's first minister, went through Bennington on his way to the War and is still remembered in town where he preached an at least one Sabbath day, by a large portrait of him in their museum. There were many.many more from our town who went to do what they considered their duty. They suffered extreme hardships and must have been foot weary, or if they were lucky enough to have a horse, saddle sores! Recently I received a letter from a friend, Don Hamill of Chicopee. He is descendant from the Stewarts, Halls and Potters in the "North Quarter." He sent me Thaddeus Potter's deposition taken May 30, 1832 , when he applied for a pension. He describes marching through Danbury to Fishkill, N.Y. and across the North River to New Jersey. He said they were frequently exercised by Baron Von Steuben. He saw General Washington several times-- saw Major Andre the day before his execution at West Point-- and saw Benedict Arnold before he escaped to the British at Nelson's Point. He said he had been blind for seven years and wanted a pension. He was turned down for he was discharged as disabled from exposure inl780 by Gen. Washington and fell short of the required time. Later-through his son Pierpont Potter -a lawyer in Jamaica, Long Island, an award of $10,000 to the date of his death in 1836 and $10.00 until the time said award was made, was granted him. Thaddeus died at his son's in Jamaica, and is no doubt buried there. But his wife Sarah, another son Joseph and Joseph's wife, Wealthy, are forever in the old part of 'my ' cemetery. We can scarcely imagine the trials of those who fought to free us from England, who fought to keep the country united a hundred years later, and who fought 'the war to end all wars' fifty years after that. Since then there has been a steady stream of wars, hot and cold. I guess we're so busy worrying about nuclear war and "The Day After" that we have just about given up on the good old-fashioned honoring we used to do. One more thing. The late Joseph Duris, veteran of WWI, after visiting an old New York State graveyard where many Revolutionary soldiers lie, decided �to do what they had done and erect a flagpole with a large flag in the West Granville Cemetery. He tended it faithfully as long as he was physically able. It was a grand idea, for in every such place there are veterans who, for one reason or another, never had monuments or flags and who are unknown now, like the Unknown Soldiers in Washington, D.C., only to God. A large flag on a staff honors one and all. Leona A. Clifforc �June 1984 Long Ago Days*** (And some new) California---here is one certainly aware of both. Mid California had a nice write up in a recent National Geographic and it is in this section that I have spent the last five weeks with my daughter, Kathleen and family. Some people tend to think of California as a "Johnny come lately" being the 31st state admitted to the Union, Sept. 9, 1850---quite a bit after Plymouth, 1620-but not so! In Oct. 1542, Spanish adventurers sailed into the Santa Barbara channel let by Juan Cabrillo, the first to name the California area. In 1579 Sir Francis Drake explored part of the coast and claimed the land for England, naming it New Albion. Spain sent out Sebastian Vezcaino in 1602 who was impressed enough so that settlers came and established a few villages along the coast and owned huge cattle and sheep ranches, some of which are still in the same family name. Russia got a foothold in 1809 to carry on a fur trade but by 1824 agreed to limit their settlements to Alaska. In 1769 Junipero Serra, a Franciscan priest with other missionaries arrived and built their first mission in San Diego. By 1823 they had 21 of them, each about a days walk apart along the trail, now a road, the Camino Real. Mexico claimed theirs in 1825 and set up a government of sorts. In 1796 the first American sailing ships reached Monterey and from then on many more arrived. Jedediah Smith, the famous "mountain man" came overland in 1826. Others, including Kit Carson and John Fremont, followed. By 1841, many settlers were clamoring to belong to the other United States and finally, in 1848, after the U.S./Mexican War, Mexico surrendered it to them. That same year gold was discovered and some of us tend to think that that was the beginning of California. Many from "back east" started for the gold fields with dreams of making their fortune. Granville had its "gambler" Alfred Searle who married Betsy Whiting in Barkhampsted in 1837, moved to Granville in 1845 where he ran a blacksmith shop with his brother Daniel. He and Betsy had several children but he got the gold fever and started out. He never realized his dream of great riches, dying on the journey, March 13, 1849. He left three children. In 1858 Betsy married Benjamin Clark, Sr. who had lost his wife a year before. They lived in Hartland Hollow and had three sons---Benjamin, Jr. who married Mary Winchell of Granville; Fred, who married my mother's sister Anna Nelson; and Delbert who was an optician m New York State. Benjamin Jr. ran a sawmill in the Hollow and Fred and Anna lived nearby. Benjamin and Mary had 12 children. While I was in California, I �received word of the death of one of the last of them, Ella (Clark)Thrall of Poquonock, CT age 97. She was my mother's lifelong friend, having established a lasting relationship when Mother visited her sister. Today, Benjamin, Sr. and Betsy, as well as his first wife, Marcia Rockwell, lie in the extreme northern section of the West Granville Cemetery. At least one Searles child is there, too. But to get back to "LONG AGO"---it is thought that for about 10,000 years, the Chumash Indians lived along this mid coast in their thatched wooden huts, clad in skins and sporting elaborate "hairdos". A trip to the museum at Lompoc shows that they were quite skillful. They wove baskets depicting wildlife very realistically. They made excellent pottery often inlaid with abalone shells and other things. They had weapons and tools as fine as any in the country and in those days, rocks in the surrounding hills have a lot of pictographs. At the present time an archaeological dig is taking place on the Vandenburg A.F.B. and other interesting artifacts are coming to light there. Today only a remnant of this civilization remains on the reservation at Santa Inez, the smallest in the U.S. containing less than 100 acres. PAST TO PRESENT: Across the street from Kathleen lives an elderly retired Air Force Colonel. He is a grandson of the great Sioux warrior Sitting Bull nemesis of General Custer at the battle of the Little Big Horn in 1876. The missions have become mostly historical sites. Most pleasant to visit! Lompoc and other towns are near to or adjoin the huge Vandenburg A.F.B. All are noted for their flower fields where Burpee and three other seed companies raise them for seeds. They are gorgeous. Right now there are acres of sweetpeas in full bloom but all kinds are raised. Along the mountainsides white spots show where the Johns-Manville Company is carrying diatomaceous earth for industrial uses. It is there for this section was once a sea bed. Gantrys stand on the mountain tops and May and I were lucky enough to see a Titan III missile streaking into the wild blue yonder one day, leaving a wide curly vapor trail. Some of them shake the houses when fired. This base is readying itself for the launching and re-entry of our spaceships in the very near future---hope I get to see that! In this state are designed and made many of our most sophisticated technologies. In this computer age we've all heard of Silicon Valley. Sometime ago California had become the aircraft and shipbuilding center of America. Tons of produce and thousands of cattle and horses call this region home. There are no citrus groves but artichokes, avocados(? for $1.00), strawberries, grapes, all kinds of nuts(not human ones, but you wonder about some in the big cities). The list is endless. Prices are very good, too, for what they raise. This California, as far as I have seen parts of it, from San Diego to San �Francisco, is a great place m our great nation, right now, and it's surely bound to play a tremendous part m the future of America. I wish everyone who has never seen it could do so. Leona A. Clifford �July 1984 Long Ago Days You can't go home again. The past is under lock and key, All that is left is what you remember, What you've read of it, What you imagine, You can't open the door and go back. Whoever wrote these lines was almost right. I have found that one can't go home again, but you can open the door and go back a little bit. This past Wednesday I was working at the Registry of Deeds in Springfield, and Bill Heino was more or less concentrating on Granville's southwest quarter. On coming home I dug into Mother's papers and found her account of "West Granville People and Places in the Old Days."Most of it had to do with that part of town, and I thought some might be interested in what was her "home territory." She began: "Where Nelson Harger lived on the road leading to the Otis Road, there previously lived Charles Curtiss, Henry Clark, Samuel Granger, Dwight Wheeler, William Jones, Eli Beach, Dewitt Coe, Lawrence Smith, Nelson Harger, and last of all, Jacob and Sarah Yarmitsky and her brother and his wife, George and Minnie Ominski( They were living there when I was born). Nelson Harger married Harriet Hunt, daughter of James Hunt. She had a sister that married Charles Moody, who lived in the north quarter of Tolland, one who married Duane Hall, and I think one who married a Fay in Chester. Dwight Wheeler later bought our farm from Dennison Parsons, who sold it to Henry Peebles. Dwight later moved to Barkhampsted's Center Hill section. William Jones was Ben Jones' father, who married Lucy Bell of Chester, Ma. Ben had a sister Lucy who married Ariel Frost who lived where Fred and Nellie Coe later lived on the Hartland Hollow Road. Ben married the widow of Lawrence Smith, who was brother to Emmiline, wife of Cyrus Ives and mother of Carrie Cooley. The next place south was Roswell Smith's house who married Eliza Harger and I remember "Aunt Liza". Just below them was the house of Leander Harger who married Marcia Coe, daughter of Seth and Rebecca (Bishop) Coe. This house was moved and added to Aunt Liza's place and Charles and Nelsie Sheets lived in it. The cow barn stayed at the Roswell Smith place but Sheets used it. Below these was Lyman Granger, who might have been Samuel Granger's son. He never married and later lived in the north of Tolland. When �he died he was buried in Pine Hill Cemetery in Westfield. (At the four corners mother left out A very Bates 's house, thinking, I guess, that it belonged to her reminiscences of the Main Road.) Opposite this road was the one south leading to West Hartland, CT. I shall always think that Isaac Chapman and his wife Ruth Fenn Robinson were the ones who built the house, a story and a half affair that was later made into a two story with an attic by Dwight Wheeler. The next owners were Capt. Cyrus Webster, Ephraim Root, Dennison Parsons, Dwight Wheeler, Henry Peebles and Major Nelson in Company with Anna Barlow. (They moved there in 1872. Still m the family 1984.) As I was asked to write short pieces I will finish this story in August. Leona A. Clifford �August 1984 Long Ago Days Last month I began a copy of a paper my mother wrote years ago that she entitled "West Granville People and Places in the Old Days". This month I will finish what she wrote about the West Hartland or State Forest Road. Next South on the left was Isaac Miller, Dwight Hamilton, and Alfred Latham. Later it belonged to John Brodrib, Major Nelson, and presently Harold Nelson. (I believe Myra Reeves told me that her parents lived in it once but don't think they owned it). She had a picture showing one of her sisters sitting on the wall south of the old house. It was all down by the time I can remember. All that was there was uncle Olin's shingle Mill, but he set the woods on fire with that so Major wouldn't let him use it anymore. It too is all gone and the whole "Latham Place" is now woods! Almost opposite I shall always think there was a house by the big maples, as there was a well there and a barn below it, which was sold and moved to the south part of Tolland (Rivers place, now John Battistoni). I feel that the house was moved to our place and used for the hens and pigs. It was plastered inside and had a chimney, which my brothers took down one day when my father was away. (I don't agree with this. The "pig pen" house had a well too and I think it may have been the original house on that farm, probably belonging to Isaac Chapman). At the corner of the old Pease Road was once a house. A cellar hole and a well are there but no one has been able to tell one of its early owner. (Harold Sattler filled in the wall for he felt it was dangerous to hunters, etc. It had tremendous lilac bushes until the woods grew about it so high they are about gone). Lydia Taylor's cellar hole is down the hill a little way on the right. ("Aunt Lids cellar hole" my folks always called it. A son of theirs, James, born in Sandisfield, died there 1847.) The next house on the right belonged at different times to Chauncey Johnson, Chase, Weatherwax, Mosely for a short time and John Brodrib. My father bought the barn there and built a horsebarn at his place. (This is still standing in poor condition). The house sold to Ab Johnsons' sons. Later Mr. Howell owned it and then the state. (Across the bridge) on the left at the foot of the hill lived Calvin Fuller, father of Lawyer Henry Fuller of Westfield, who married one of Milton Whitney's daughters. Calvin was killed by Jesse Hall of Hall Pond and thrown in the pond(l 837). (Across the road the old River Road runs all the way to Rt. 57. In the corner of it is an old cellar hole. I have seen an account saying a Ransom lived �there but this may not be so). (At the top of the hill the Jeff Miller Road runs across to Tolland). On the next right, George Atkins bought and lived in an old house and later built a new one which has been torn down by the State (1961). I don't know who lived in the old house previous to Atkins. In the new one, after Atkins was Albert Hitchcock, and after the State owned it, Joe and Dorothy Boehm and Lester and Edith Sattler lived in it. It too, has been torn down and a pity for I thought it was a beautiful house! (Chas. Magvanis lived there for a time-Wm. Cooleys stepfather.) Next right Ed. Chase. I don't know if others lived there before but Burt Magvanis lived and died there. Afterwards the State bought it and tore it down. Next right stood the Southwest district schoolhouse. My husband, George Aldrich, bought it from the town and made it into a henhouse at the farm in 1920's. I'm getting ahead of myself! Just before the schoolhouse on the right lived James Johnson, son of Eli Johnson, (who lived on the Sattler farm on Jeff Miller Rd). I don't know if James built it. Fred Dutton who married 1st Minnie and 2nd Lena Hunt lived there when it burned. I was around eight or nine. Next right beyond the school (and across Halfway Brook) lived William Keep who married Eliza Perkins of Colebrook River. It was sold to the State. Mattie Hunt, mother of, Ruth Broughton was a Perkins also and related to Eliza. The next right---Talcott Coe and his son Ward Coe(whom I remember) lived. Later it was sold to the State and has been the home of Harold Sattler, State Forest Supt. (When he retired he move to Colebrook, Ct. The house 1s now torn down.) Next left lived Harlow Coe who married Emily Hopkins. Later the Edward Ransom family got the place for caring for Emily's sister until she died. It now belongs to James Krasnoff. (Now a Snowmobile Club.) Here Mother continued on to West Hartland for she knew just about everyone there but today things have changed. Often we don't know the people next door and there is not much old-fashioned neighborliness! Leona A. Clifford �September 1984 Long Ago Days There is an old saymg, "In spring a young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love." There was probably more to it, but I don't remember. Anyway, September and fall are coming up now and a lot of people's thoughts are turning to "School days, school days, dear old golden rule days." Seeing the children off to school again certainly turns my thoughts back to my days as a pupil at Ore Hill in West Granville. Last spring a friend celebrated her 80th birthday at a lovely party sponsored by the Library Club in town. I was asked to say a few things about my sixty year association with this lady, which I was very happy to do. Since then several older people who have attended told me they had heard almost none of my remarks that day and that they wished I would put them in the Country Caller. I can't think of a better time to do so than in September where it all began, so here goes ...... There came into my life in September 1923, a red letter day, although I didn't realize it at the time. The old Ore Hill School in West Granville got a new teacher! This was an outstanding event! For all my grammar school years there had been one teacher until then, Bernice Dole, later Nelson, and by that marriage, my cousin. I am sure all the pupils were early on that morning so as to get a peek at the new teacher through a window and try to size her up before the bell rang. Well, she wasn't very big and didn't look mean. She didn't look like anyone to be afraid of but time would tell. At nine o'clock the bell rang and we found ourselves under the tender, loving care of Helena B. Wamboldt and the beginning, for me, of the happiest years and memories of my nine grades at school, plus the beginning of friendship now spanning some sixty years. I wonder, looking back from this far, what it must have been like coming from a big town like Newton, Massachusetts to a "back in the hills" town like Granville- from all the comforts of city life to the more primitive farmlife then existing in most West Granville families. No running water, some of the more fortunate had pumps at the kitchen sink but several still depended on a bucket and windlass, sometimes in a shed sometimes out. No bathrooms, no central heat, only privies, pumps and wood stoves! Well, as we can see, she stuck it out and also became one of the many who, back in those days, quite often married locally and never left. She was married to Joseph Duris, Nov. 27, 1930, in her home town church. Therein lay Granville's gain. As most of you know, I am very interested in Granville's history, and the genealogy of its early families, but NO ONE, in �my lifetime so far, has spent more time in that type of research here than she has. No one has answered more letters to more people seeking "roots" here and no one else can take the credit for the beautiful historical room at the library that Granville is so fortunate to have today. My Aldrich Family Association reunion was held here, in part, in 1983 and they were 1Jl.Q.ll impressed with it. Nathan Aldrich Jr. of Farmington, New York was especially thrilled with the framed document to do with a debt owed by Job Stiles and signed by Oliver Phelps. He and his family before him live on a farm that was originally part of the Phelps-Gorham purchase in New York State. They all also have enjoyed visiting the Historical building on the hill, to which Helena has given much time and effort. When any town anywhere has such a person in their midst, they can be most thankful. They are a credit to their community!! Leona A. Clifford �October 1984 Long Ago Days " Once upon a time" Tolland was a part of Granville. According to Elias Nasons Gazateer of Mass, published in 1873, it had 509 inhabitants and 108 farms. It was incorporated June 14, 1810 and became Tolland instead of West Granville, that designation going to what, up to then, had been Middle Granville. It had, in 1873, eight sawmills, two shingle mills, 1 turning mill, 1 bedstead factory and one tannery. There were eight school districts. The tax rate was $0.75 per thousand! It sent twenty five soldiers to the late war, (Civil), twelve of whom died. Rev. Roger Harrison was its first minister, also post master, town clerk, and Representative. The Rev. Gordon Hall, 1st American missionary to Bombay, and well known author, was born here Apr. 4, 1784 and died in India of the cholera, Mar. 20, 1826. Tolland is a pleasant village, having a Congregational Church on elevated ground, supposed to be the highest lying in the same latitude between the Connecticut and Housatonic Rivers." So much for Mr. Nason!---right or wrong. Here came, fairly early, several settlers and among them were Jabez Rogers and Thomas, Elijah and William Twining, brothers who came from the town of Eastham on Cape Cod. The father of Jabez was Nathaniel (4) son of John (3) who had married Elizabeth Twining in 1699 at Eastham. There was at least one more marriage between these families at Tolland. My sister and I spend a week at South Wellfleet every September and this year I finally got to the County Seat in Barnstable to look them up. Thomas (1) Rogers the first in the country, came over on the Mayflower with a son Joseph (2) about twelve years of age. Thomas died in the " Great Sickness " in the first year but Joseph survived and removed at some time to Eastham. He married Hannah, (possible) Houghton and had several children. Joseph (2) Rogers left, what was to me, a very interesting will. Amusing was the fact that he left his daughter, Hannah, a cow of her choice " if she is unmarried before my and my wive's decease, and that until his wifes decease, " nothing ( of mine) to be disposed of save only Hannahs cow"! He owned considerable land, some of which " I bought off the Indians, Francis and Joseph". His holding included the Cedar Swamp, now a part of the National Seashore, and a visit to it is one of their guided tours which I have taken and enjoyed, and �he owned Billingsgate Island which I understand has now sunk, the area of the Cape having changed pretty drastically since his day. He was all in all a pretty large landholder which he designated as "purchased and unpurchased". He is buried in the ancient Cove Burying Ground at Eastham, probably with others of his family but the very few stones there are mostly worn away to "nubbins" and unreadable. I took pictures of the monument erected there by his descendants in the l 960's a large boulder with a bronze plaque. Two other Pilgrims are also buried there, Giles and Constance Hopkins. It is a well kept spot. I was disappointed not to see the volume of Probate Records to do with the early Twinings as it was in use and my time was limited. After Probate I visited the beautiful Sturgis Library, also in Barnstable, which has an outstanding genealogical and historical collection and there both families came to light right up to the births of the Tolland settlers. This was due to several volumes of "General notes of Cape Cod families" put together by three Duxbury, MA ladies and dated 1967. I was delighted and could have spent hours there, but again we were on our way home and short of time. Also it was Saturday and the library hours were few on that day. I certainly hope to get back there sometime for it may be that other Tolland families such as Higgins came from there too. Topping things off the cottages where we have gone for several years belonged to a man whose wife is also a direct descendant of Thomas (1) Rogers through his grandson James (3) brother of the Jone (3) of the Tolland line. We compared notes and she kindly let me copy her records. Supposedly these two families came to Tolland about 1783. What a trip that must have been and what a wilderness they landed in. Thomas Twining (5) is said to have built on what is now the Deming place and Jabez Rogers on the "old north road", not far from them. It is on this road that the Twining Cemetery is situated and signs of the old road are still plain in spots. It meandered considerably and parts of it were still in use until what is now Rt. 57 first built. When my great grandfathers lived at the Bates place they were still arguing which road was the better to use, especially in winter! Soon though it was abandoned though as a child I walked the part on the Bates place many times. Well, in any case they stayed on in town many years. Jabez (5) was among the first eleven members of the Tolland church and some �of them are still in Granville and Tolland, including Florence Sussman and Alan Moore. I am not sure about the Twinings but I believe Robert Alden is one. They were also intermarried with the Parsons family this name also having disappeared. However it is exciting to study up on those early settlers who dared the "howling" wilderness--- and there were wolves about on which a bounty was paid about 1790--- so long ago, and who stuck with it and helped to build the two towns into the beautiful one town it is today. Leona A. Clifford �November 1984 Long Ago Days Someone wondered a while back as to how long one must live in a town before their home would be called the "Smith place" instead of the "Jones place" ---their name! I suppose it is annoying to always have your property known as the "Smith place," said Smith long ago departed for that realm where "moth and dust doth not corrupt nor thieves break in and steal," and whom nobody living remembers, in most cases. However that seems to still be the case in small country towns, not only here, but also in rural Canada and maybe everywhere for all I know --- especially where one family lived for a long time, possibly for several generations. I am reminded quite often that an owners name on a deed does not necessarily mean that he lived there, but when said land is still called the "old Moore place," the "Harlow Coe place," the "Spelman place," or the "Cooley place" by the present day inhabitants, someone by that name li.Y&d. there long ago! This also applies to old cellar holes of which there are many in our town, as well in any of the hill towns around us. There is a good example of this in West Granville where a road long abandoned, leads from Leroy Clink's place to the Hartland Hollow Road running South from Benton's store and joining it just a good long jump from the Connecticut line. Today it is a wilderness but there were at least four farms there 100 years or so ago. The first was the Pease place (Sylvannus) and it was about where the old Cross Road leaves it on the right and connects with the State Forest road, at the top of the "Brodribs Hill". Next was the "Hayes place" (Thomas). In later years I believe his daughter, Augusta, owned the Tavern stand in West Granville. It was on his farm that there was said to be a huge old hollow tree that, for a time, someone lived in. I believe he was born in England. "Uncle Tom Hayes," as mother called him, gave her a silver dollar when she was a small girl. She must have felt quite rich! I am sure she never parted with it. After Hayes came the "Hall place"--- (Chauncy). His son Steven married my grandfather's halfsister, Jennie Nelson, and was living within my lifetime, first where Helena Duris does and later where Ernie Sattler does. He died a long time ago in Plainville, CT. After the state bought a lot of property in the area one of the old houses, and I think it was probably the Hayes house was burned �to make a documentary film about forest fires, while our neighbor, Carrie Cooley and her two little boys played the part of a family whose home was being destroyed by the fire. ---needless to say, all escaped unharmed! As this road turned South East and met the Hartland Hollow Road, was the "Cornwell place." Jesse Cornwell, not the first of the name to live there nor the last, at one time was a part owner of the old Hubbard Mills about which I wrote a short while back. I remember aunt "Gusty" Cornwell, daughter of Anson and I believe great granddaughter of Jesse, who was a friend of mothers. Eventually ill these names will be forgotten and maybe some day new houses will appear on the road---it really is a very pleasant one--- although the whole area is just about one vast woodland. Until then us "old folks" will have to be pardoned for remembering them as our grandfathers, great-grandfathers and possibly even an earlier generation remembered them. We still love you newcomers--- pardon the expression--- We're just sticking with a bad(?) habit we've had for years! Leona A. Clifford �December 1984 Long Ago Days Another year has rolled around faster than any I can remember in my whole lifetime and I have realized more than ever that I don't want to do so many things that I used to enjoy. I've just about gotten to the point where reading, record searching and answering letters from all the people nationwide who believe their roots lie in Granville is what I mostly keep busy with and enjoy! Quite often the search is useless. Whether this is due to the poorly kept records in "long ago days" or on the fact that the people in question never lived here is anybody's guess. There is one problem that constantly appears. The Town Clerk registered many babies as son or daughter of John Brown and wife, or worse yet as child of said Brown. I suppose in the very long ago days the time of year played a part. Granville including Tolland covered a lot of territory and it was cold several months of the year. Also transportation was slow and poor! There was a large family born in the later l 800's who registered all their twelve children except the oldest. Later I found out that she was born in January in the Granville section of Hartland Hollow! It apparently didn't appeal to her father to take the long trip by horse and buggy or sleigh as the case might have been to register her. So many reasons kept popping up for skipping records. In any case I now have several problems. First was the letter from a man in California who was writing a dissertation for a degree who had to know how the town of Granville voted in June 1754 on Governor Shirley's proposed excise tax on lemons and oranges! My goodness! At that point the town had finished quite a battle to get themselves incorporated besides trying to earn a living and no doubt many other more pressing things than to worry about lemons and oranges which few possibly none, ever had. After two letters from him, I told him to write to the Secretary of State's office in Boston and I sent the address. That suggestion was Sam Wackerbarth's idea and I guess it worked. At least I have had no more letters. I would be surprised if that office had records, either. That was about the time they discovered Bedford and as they already had one of those we got the name of Granville to be incorporated with. The Great and General Court seems not to have known of us back in the western hills! Another was from someone interested in Lester Strickland. There is no record here, but if I was a gambling woman I would bet on Blandford or Otis(once Glasgow and Louden). There were many families by that name in those places and Millie Strickland still lives on Beach Hill. Robert Hubbard married his wife Mehitable Turner in Middletown, �Connecticut, but they both died here and are buried in Woodland Cemetery with many of their family. He had a son Linus and Linus had a son Emerson but I can't connect them with the earlier Hubbards, also from the Middletown area. Linus married Elvira Cooley and their son Robert 2nd married a Beckwith I think, still, who were Robert 1st's father and grandfather? Another person is looking for Seth Granger, supposedly the son of Nathaniel. Suffield, Connecticut would be a good bet on that one. The Grangers in Tolland and Granville came from there but they had more high-minded names--Lancelot, Lafayette and George Washington. Not a Seth in the bunch that I can find. Amos Spring and his wife Reliance Snow. There were two Snow families in Tolland, but she isn't listed. Tolland records were in Granville until 1810 and missing since then until 1844. The ones since then are very scanty due possibly to the fire that destroyed the schoolhouse when it was being used for a Town Hall a few years ago. Amos was of Otis and there were several there. In fact--I talked with Olive Spring widow of Martin, son of Sammy the old time fiddler, a few weeks ago. Some of us old timers danced many a time to his music! James Searle; he and his family lived on a farm in West Granville on the old abandoned road opposite the Krasnoff place. The wife was Susan Olive Gillet, although our records call her "Gilbert". They had their own private graveyard across from the house and in it they buried their first child Melvin, who died young. Three other sons went to the Civil War. George died in the South but Dwight and Julius got back home though in such poor health that they did not long survive. They finally joined Melvin and their father James, who died in 1868 of cancer. About 1889 or so, Susan, mother joined them. Only Julius had a gravestone. Each Memorial Day the state of Connecticut sent a flag and a geranium for the grave. He also had a Civil War marker. Local men saw to it that the decorations were placed but as time went on it became an impossible task. In 1957 permission was given by the authorities in such things as to remove Julius to West Granville. At the same time, the mother's remains were put into a small casket with those of Julius and they were buried near the East Wall in the "new" part of the cemetery where they can be better cared for. Nothing was found of any others for they had been there too long and had been badly flooded in 1955 as well as probably other times. Hunters had used Julius' stone for a target which damaged it somewhat. Also lumbering operations had turned the whole place into a disaster area. It is much nicer where they are with the gravestone at the head and the government marker �at the foot of the grave. Well, all in all, it is a fascinating and frustrating puzzle to unravel some of my inquiries. Thank God for the New England Historical Genealogical Society in Boston. I still hope to find some of the answers there as I have often done in the past. In the meantime I would love to hear from anyone who knows anything about any of these people. I need help on one more very important search. In 1909, the Reverend Henry Coolidge, minister in West Granville, made a chart of the West Granville Cemetery. It was 30 or so inches square and was on a frame. The whole thing was in a cloth or canvas bag. When my father took care of the cemetery for several years, he had the chart at our house. When the job went to someone else the chart went with it. Now it has disappeared! It doesn't seem possible that anyone would discard it. I am sure it was in existence in 1975. I would appreciate seeing it regardless of the shape it now may be in. Last, but not least-- MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL OF YOU FROM ME!!! Leona A. Clifford �February 1985 Long Ago Days A while back we took a trip down West Granville's State Forest Road and we also explored the Sheets Road. It seemed like a good idea to copy one of my favorite folk singers, Willie Nelson, so I'm "On the road again." Will Rogers used say something to the effect that all he knew was what he read in the papers. Well, part of what I know is what I read in old newspaper clippings, old records, what I've heard from old-timers and what I remember. Going back to the first settlement of Granville covers about 250 years. Things are pretty dim on the way back to those days. I know I am bound to make mistakes and be wrong sometimes, and I'd only be too glad to hear anybody elses versions of what used to be. Today I'll take a stroll, and a stroll is about all I can manage nowadays, from the Tolland line to the east. We always thought of the Hubbard River as being the town line but a marker stands a little west of the present bridge. This bridge, having been replaced several times and not always in the same spot over the years, probably it was the line in Grandpa's day. In any case, we'll go up the hill east of the bridge and then we will leave the present Route 57 and follow the old road if we can find it. When Cyrus Ives, and later Will Cooley, owned it there was a barway across this road at both ends for they enclosed a sheep and cow pasture. They were good markers but are long gone now so one has to look closely. It turned right for a short distancc-(there was quite a large gravel bank where red foxes had dens and a spring with a huge beech tree nearby where my uncles, who had Ii ved at the Bates place, had carved their initials as boys). About there you turned right again and went up the hill coming out about in Lennon's dooryard. My mother wrote, "How many times I remember Mr. Ives driving his sheep and cattle to that pasture." About half way up the hill there were many signs of an old homestead: stone foundations, an apple orchard, and a good spring where a tin can was kept on a stake driven in the ground. When the Cooley boys and May and I walked that road we would have to have a drink, thirsty or not, with never a thought of acid rain or PCB's or any other dangers. That water was cold and delicious and we are still living! Who lived there? My mother thought Nathaniel Hubbard did, but so far I've found nothing to verify this. I wish I could. Unsolved mysteries such as this really bother me! It must have been a pleasant spot with a nice view to the west, but it was gone long ago, for a map from 1855 does not show it. The road was a matter of controversy as the residents argued over whether to maintain the "old" or the "new" road �especially in winter, and at one session great Grandpa Aaron Nelson threatened to close off the old one. It ran on his land! Now we'll go through Mr. Lennon's dooryard and we'll be back on Route 57 once more and near the four corners whose side roads I've already written about. At the northwest corner of this intersection stands the home of Avery Bates, who has made extensive changes in it. It used to be a rather large two storied grey shingled house--that in 1864 Aaron Nelson III bought off the widow Elisha Miner. The Miners had come from Stonington, CT. At one period several Granville families seemed to have come from there, including Benjamin Clark Sr., the Terretts and possibly the Babcocks. Great Grandpa and Cyrus Ives claimed the house was built around 1810 by Perry Babcock. Some believe (I suppose because of its situation on the cross roads) that it was a tavern, but there is no record I can find of any of its owners ever holding a license. In 1881, the roof of the house caved in because of the weight of the snow--nobody was injured. In 1884, Aaron Nelson sold or gave the property to their sons with the stipulation that they should provide for their parents during their lifetimes "as children should do for their parents." The Nelson 'boys' finally moved to Westfield where job prospects were better and sold in 1885 to Cyrus Ives a native of Tolland who had been living in the Pease place south of Leroy Clinks. Mrs. Ives was formerly Emmeline Smith of Sandisfield. I remember Mr. Ives. At his death the place went to their daughter Caroline who married William Cooley( Mother was her bridesmaid when they married). Next Russell, Carrie's son had it, then Durand Miller and now Bates. There was another owner but not for long. In 1866 Aaron sold the place to a Mr. Streeter. Others think is was not Streeter but a similar name. Aaron went to Iowa to visit his oldest son Riley Nelson. He thought Aaron would like living there better than in West Granville but I guess Aaron was too old to undertake such a big change so he came back and bought the place over again. Next month we'll go beyond the crossroads to an interesting(mine) house. Leona A. Clifford �March 1985 Long Ago Days I thought my story in the last Country Caller ran along somewhat smoother than usual until I got to the end and there it was, the line that read "to an interesting house place. . .mine." That was supposed to read " to me." It was never mine! Oh well, as little batches of homemade leaven were saved in the old days for the next batch of bread, pancakes or whatever, that can become leaven for my "on down the road" story this time. Across the four corners where the Sheets Road and State Forest Road cross Route 57, and on the north side of the road a short distance east, there stood for many years a large old house, Several sheds and barns stood across from it. Here in the earliest days, Col. Timothy Robinson probably lived. He owned land here so it is easy to assume that he built the house. In his day he seemed to have been THE leader citizen! East of the old house and on the south side of the road are still signs of the building site and I've heard that the Colonel had a store there. Alfred Latham (born 1802 died 1887 age 85) was my Grandpa's neighbor for some time and he told my Grandpa that story and said that store was very similar to the one now at the village run by Helen Benton. It may be that it could have been moved there. People did move buildings in the Long Ago Days. I suppose they could have used logs for rollers and oxen for power. In any case, I know- of several instances when it was done, one being the Farm Museum in Hadley, Mass. that had been a barn about two and a half miles north of the village at the PorterPhelps Huntington House. A most interesting place. In 1855 a map puts Samuel Marks living there. He was no doubt father to Lyman Marks who lived where Dave Day does now; the Nelson Frisbie place, and ran a tannery on the brook there. The Marks were from Hartland and both men and their families are buried in West Hartland except for Lyman's son Julius who is buried in West Granville. Lyman's daughter Anna married J. Wilbur Gibbs and his daughter Jennie married my uncle Leland Nelson. Sometime after that Rob Carney owned it. He was an Irishman who came from Meriden, Connecticut(! have his picture). He sold to Nathan Fenn, also from Meriden, and lived for a time in a shed across the road. Mother said she would bypass his place any way she could on her way to Ore Hill School to avoid his ugly geese! She said Rob later went back to Meriden and so did the Fenns. They were still in West Granville in 1881, but Nathan died in Meriden in 1905. While in town he assumed the title of Doctor and had considerable �success, though in his own hometown he was in the clock and jewelry business. He had a daughter who married Samuel Bodurtha of Agawam and had three sons. The sons did a great deal of hunting in Vermont and were the means of getting my father to come to town where he later married Mother. I have always been grateful to them for that for he was the best father in the whole world and I adored him! My mother remembered the big fire when this house burned, but I don't know the date. I never saw it...for years it was just another old cellar hole, but then Albert Sheets, son of Charles and Nelsie (Harger) Sheets, married a teacher Lucy Warner, from Belchertown, Massachusetts and built a new house on the site around 1917-1918. The Sheets' have passed on but I have fond memories of being taken by them to the Sammy Springs dances at the Otis Fireman's Hall on Friday nights, and of many good times spent in that house when I was young. To be continued next month. Leona A. Clifford �April 1985 Long Ago Days Most folks in town no doubt know where the "Berry Patch" is in West Granville. It is a little distance east of the old Fenn place. A large swamp lies on both sides of the road between them, which in my day accounted for most of our problems in mud season. A kid could sink in up to his knees m some places! From my earliest memories of the house at the "Berry Patch" the farm, with its large house belonging to Gilbert Miller, son of Milo of South Lane 2 and father of Earl Miller. He owned both sides of the road. My map of 1855 names Nathaniel Ives as the resident. I have found so far, nothing about him. He may have been related to Cyrus at the Bates place, but I just don't know. Gilbert married Laura Robinson the daughter of Henry and Elizabeth (Richards) Robinson -- she of Blandford. Henry was the son of Chauncy and Polly Hubbard. The Robinsons and Hubbards go a long way back! I recently received a copy of Henry and Laura's wedding picture from their granddaughter Doris Thatcher of Palmer, Ma. and I treasure it! They lived for a time on the Harger place on Sheets Rd., but in 1886 Henry Robinson died in an accident with his team of horses and Gilbert and Laura moved in shortly after. Laura died rather young leaving 3 boys, the youngest about 6. Having possibly heard of or known of "wicked stepmothers" she made Gilbert promise never to remarry. So it came about that he hired "Aunt Libby" Ives as a housekeeper and she held that position until her death in 1925. She was a good friend of Mother's and a dear old lady, very generous with cookies and other goodies for the water carriers from Ore Hill School. She was a sister of Cyrus Ives at the Bates place. She was born in Holland, daughter of Truman Ives, and had a sister, "Aunt Lindy" living on the old home place there, west of Tolland Center. She was a good cookie maker, too! Neither ever married and both are at rest in the West Granville Cemetery near Gilbert and Laura. Sometime after Libby died, Gilbert went to live with his son Henry who owned a large dairy farm in East Longmeadow. Several owners since that time. Joseph and Dorothy Boehm, she sister to Millie Sattler, owned it for quite a time and finally sold it to Byron Bronson of Illinois, a relative of Steven Roberts. Morton and Josephine Barnes and their family lived in it, also for some time, and she died there. Later it was sold to Andrew and Pearl Duris who did much restoration on the house and planted and cultivated blueberries, now the "Berry Patch." However, Mr. and Mrs. Baker were the ones who christened it that. Both of them are now dead and �I'm ashamed to say that I don't know who owns or lives there. At some much earlier time this house had had drastic changes made in it and not for the better---probably to "modernize" it! It's big central chimney was torn out which caused the whole place to sag. The Duris's corrected what they could. I would love to have seen it when it was first built. I'm not too much for modernization; restoration, yes! Leona A. Clifford �May 1985 Long Ago Days I intended to go through West Granville Village and all the side roads where different people lived in the long ago and not so long ago, but I guess I have spring fever, and having 'bogged down' as it were, at the Baker place. I am going to take a break from that until I can get to Springfield to the Registry of Deeds or until Bill Heino gets back from Florida with his vast amount of material on West Granville properties. I was very glad to read the nice remarks about Russ Avery in the last Country Caller, whom I have known since my high school days in East Hartford Ct. 192 7-193 1. I remember the first time I saw him as he walked down the aisle in the high school auditorium. His family attended the Methodist church there, as I did with my Aunt Jennie (Gibbs) Nelson. Indeed she and Uncle Leland Nelson were amoung the founders of that church. I not only knew Russ, but his mother and sisters as well, and Fran (Atwood) Avery's family, too. She and I were in the same graduating class at E.H.H.S. At church there was a young peoples group-Epworth League. All of us enjoyed some good times there traveling about by trolley car to neighboring towns for suppers and entertainments at their churches. I will never forget the day I got a letter from Fran asking if there were any places to rent in Granville. I was sure she was fooling! Well it didn't turn out so and because they came here and have stayed, I've known her almost 60 years! It doesn't seem that long, and attending Russ' funeral was a sad and nostalgic occasion! Still it was nice to see members of their families for I seldom do. Time goes so fast, especially the older we get; and I think sometimes everyone I ever knew has gone on. Not just yet, however, for last Monday I had a lovely visit with our neighbor of the old days, Harriet (Sheets) Julian and her son-in-law and daughter, Arthur and Margaret Moore. I always enjoy talking to old friends and there are very few now. Harriet lived with her family on the Sheets Road north of where Charles Sheets lives now, but the old home is gone. When I was a kid, she was a young lady and I thought SHE was really something- the height of fashion! Her mother was head of the Ladies Aid for years and there were church suppers every two weeks, church and Sunday school services, plus Wednesday night prayer meeting every week. I just waited to see what Harriet would be wearing! I yearned to grow-up and wear her kind of clothes instead of ferris waists and bloomers and wooley underwear and wooley dresses in winter that itched! To this day I detest wool clothing-I itch thinking about it. It seemed that day would never come! The epitome arrived the first Sunday she attended church after her wedding to Frank Julian of Winsted, CT. She was, I thought, a vision of beauty! How I envied her! Frank and his 3 brothers had a great quartet and they would sing at our church suppers. They were really good. Looking back now the years flew like lightening. For a while when I was in high school they lived in East Hartford and I loved to go to their house. It was a 'piece of home' so to speak, in a vast land of strangers. I would ride up home with them sometimes when they went to visit her folks on a weekend. Later, at Westfield, for convenience in getting to work, Dennis boarded with Mr. and Mrs. Sheets, and Harriet and family lived upstairs in the same house So vou see that frienci.shin lasted all mv lifetime. one of the few �that has, and looking back it seems like only yesterday that my mother and sister would walk up to the Sheets for an afternoon visit or when I picked blueberries for them in the summer at their farm, or the Harger place, or Chestnut Hill near Hall Pond where we would go by horse or farm wagon with pickers, pails, crates, lunches, etc. with Albert Sheets driving the whole shebang! It brings back so many memories that I think I could write pages, but I won't so don't get nervous! I am just thankful for the nice visit I had with an old friend and I will keep the memories with myself for dark days when I really need them. Meantime I hope Harriet, her family and I get in a few more. The time grows short when we reach September, as the song goes and I think maybe our time is more like November. Leona A. Clifford �June 1985 Long Ago Days I still haven't gotten to the bottom of the heap as to the Blueberry Patch, but until I do, we'll explore some more. A little building stood east of it and on the same side of the road. It may have been an old house but when I was little it was Mr. Gilbert Miller's "pig nursery" and fun to visit. To my mind there wasn't any cuter baby animal than a piglet! Just beyond it on the corner of Lover's Lane (according to old maps), stood a school. It was voted to build it in 1807. In 1814 it was voted to "save the remains of the late school" and a new one was voted to be built on Heziah Robinson's southeast corner. He seems to have given the land for both. The first may have partially burned for the new one was to have no fireplace! Today, and for many years, this building has been the home of Minnie and Leroy Clink. It appears an old blacksmith shop stood there for "old clinkers" from a forge used to be quite commonly found there. Across the road from there was, and still may be, a well. Whether a house was there is unknown to me, but probably was. Below it, some distance Earl Miller's father built the house were he and Olive live. It might been an old home sight, too, but I don't know that either. On the south of the highway across from them stood an ancient, very large house, wood colored. It was at one time the home of Rev. Joel Baker, West Granville's pastor from 1795 to 1833, and much revered. At his death it was sold by his son Francis to the Sheppard Family and so on down to the Treats and Bruneaus, in the same line. I have a poor picture of it at the east, and wish I had taken a picture of its front before it was torn down. It was a beautiful old house, somewhat on the style of the Merrill Brooks home on South Lane. It had all the old features of paneling, fireplace etc. Beyond it, down Ore Hill, (a West Granville old timer once told my mother that a man named Ore lived on it, but I have never found any record of him anywhere). It seemed to me that it was probably named that for when there was any water in the ditches they were red with iron ore. There seemed to be plenty of water in that old hill and in spring it turned to a bog. Down at the foot a little brook runs under the road and in the old days a large hop vine grew on the south side of the road on the west side of Said Brook. It was the only one I ever saw and disappeared when, at some time, the road was widened. I wonder? Do you suppose they made beer around there? Up the small rise between the brook we arrive at the village. The village and the first house there on the north side of the road is John Phelp's house. It is a brick house and I have heard that the bricks were made from a �small deposit of clay somewhere on the Hartland Hollow Rd. Strange, but there are no more brick houses in West Granville. Hon. John Phelps was the High Sheriff of the then Hampshire County and it is said that when he set out for the county seats in Springfield or Northampton, he was quite a sight to see with his fine clothes, powdered wig and his " retinue." He supposedly was a friendly man who always spoke to everyone he met including the children. Across the road, where Helen Benson lives now, a pretty old house was trying to fall down when I was little. The doors and windows wore out and the paint was just about off. Like all the kids we had the desire to go in and look about but mother was forever telling us to keep out of it. It wasn't ours and it was in very dangerous condition. William Reeves finally restored it and it is one of my favorites in town. Francis and Ethel Reeves lived in it for a while and, as they were good friends of Dennis and I, we spent many happy times there 45 or so years ago. Way before my time Horatio and Mary (Reed) Wheeler lived there for a while. He owned a factory in New York City and made all sorts of blank books. I think for a time he dealt in dry goods, too. When he retired they came to West Granville for May Wheeler was sister to my great, great aunt Anna (Reed) Barlow who was living on the Nelson Farm with my grandparents. They were the daughters of Israel Reed, master mason from Harvard, Mass, and were born there. Israel Reed built the piers for the old Springfield toll bridge and many other such jobs. He is said to have built the foundation for one of the monuments on Lexington Green, to do with the Revolutionary War. I have yet old account books of Horatio Wheeler that were stored in the attic at the farm. At one time at one business exposition in New York his company won a prize for the excellence of their product. All four are buried in the Silver Street Cemetery in Granville. I should have liked to have known all of them. Well of course that was not to be. What I find out about my ancestors I do the hard way. Reading reams of papers and books with the likelihood that I shall never really know all the story of them---frustrating to a " would be" ( especially amateur) genealogist! In July we get to the old Church, Academy, Store and Hotel. I do not claim to be an authority on any of them, but will write what I've found. I am always interested in hearing any one else's opinion and welcome them. I would consider it a favor. Leona A. Clifford �July 1985 Long Ago Days The Village Green Some time ago I wrote for the Country Caller a rather long piece about the church in the middle (West Granville). It is the oldest church building in the town, dating from 1 782, so I will not go into it again but will go on to the West Granville Academy. Mr. Wilson's history states that "it was about 1835 when a wave of private Academies swept through New England" and it was about then that it struck our town. Middle Granville had quite a few highly educated men from those days, and being convinced that a knowledgeable higher education was desirable, some of the more progressive residents set about getting it. They decided to start a subscription, and if possible, raise funds for it in this way. The list has survived! $5 Elizur Robinson Nathan Parsons $50 $5 $50 Leander Harger Rev. Henry Eddy $5 $50 John Kent m.H Squires $9.50 r. Vincent Holcomb $50 Jesse Rose $10 Josiah Atkins Samuel & Luman Parsons $30 $5 Wetmore Baldwin Dea. H. Robinson $25 D. L. Munn $3.67 $39.91 Seth Coe $5 $10 E. G. Baker Jabez Atkins $5 Frederick Hodkins $5 Joel D. Harger $5 $2 . W. Shepard Samuel Wilcos $5 Lyman Shepard $40 Edmund Munson $5 $100 George W. Terrett Noah Cooley $15 $5 Nathan Atkins r. Moss $5 $25 J. R. & M. K. Bates L Curtiss $7 Levi Parsons Ezra Baldwin $10 $10 William A. Baldwin Eoderick Spelman $6 $5 Ethan Coe Grand Total of $674.63 Probably there were others who gave time and labor. In any case it was rd first used in 1837. In 1850 the Parish voted on April 3 to choose a board of trustees to have supervision of the Academy School. There is a very Fragmentary list of teachers that has been handed down none of which is of much interest now, except for Russell Conwell, the famous founder of Temple University and author of "Acres of Diamonds", who lectured for it. As a child I met the man at his home in Worthington, Ma but mother wouldn't let me shake his hand for we had just had a picnic and my hands were covered with plum juice! This old Academy survived until 1869 when George H. Atkins was the last on to conduct it, modern high schools having become more common. After some years of idleness it became a hall for the use of Ladies Aid and of the church and a place where all town "doins" were conducted. In 1891 it was used to lay out the body of John Gallagher who had been killed by a fallimz tree. The same eveninQ some sort of church services were also held �there. I don't know if the deceased was among the congregation or stashed away upstairs! (An account of this is in Leland Nelson's diary). Many delicious suppers, and in my day many lively dances for which my mother and dad provided the music, followed suppers. It seems now that most of the good times of my youth occurred there. It too, like the church is now only occasionally used. It was beautifully restored for the Bi-Centennial as someone said " in true Williamsburg style" I really doubt, that its beginnings could have held a candle to the real Williamsburg, VA.having visited their buildings built in the very early days of our country. I can't somehow imagine there being the kind of buildings that were built in tiny old West Granville! However, it is gorgeous and we are lucky to have it and the church after so many years. To close, I quote from an advertisement in Ben Jones' scrapbook WEST GRANVILLE ACADEMY. This institution will open its winter session Monday, December 2, 1844 and will continue, as formerly, under the care of the subscriber. Thorough instruction will be given in all branches pursued and in effort will be spared for the intellectual and moral improvement of the pupils. (Here follows a long list of the textbooks used in classes, including Cicero and Virgil.) There will be weekly exercises in Declamation and Composition. The Tuition for the term of 11 weeks will be: $3 .00 for the Common English Branches $3. 50 for the Higher English Branches $4.00 for French, Latin and Greek Good board can be obtained within a short distance of the Academy for $1 & $1. 50 per week, fuel, lights and etc. included. H.S. Bartlett, Principal There were 3 7 students, 16 males and 21 females. Most were local but there was at least on from each Springfield, W. Springfield, Norwich CT, Hartland, Stutesbury, Whately and Farmington that year. IT MUST HAVE ENJOYED A GOOD REPUTATION! Leona A. Clifford �August 1985 Long Ago Days In the early days when stores were finally opened to supply settlers with what they could not raise or make, such as salt, tea and molasses, etc. Also rum, indispensable for house and barnraisings, funerals, and ordinations, to say nothing of warming the inner man's in the days of primitive heating. Some women, too, as the records plainly show. I imagine the hotel, next east of the store, was well patronized between the Sunday a.m. and p.m. services in the old days. They were also the social centers of the town. Supposedly Timothy Robinson owned a store east of Albert Sheets and for years its location was well defined. It is said it resembled the present one and may have been moved there but some records seem to have been pointing to Daniel Gillett as the one builder of the one still owned and operated by Helen Benton. The late Lester Sattler said the very first one was in what is now called Tolland on the Hartland Rd. in someone's house. Possibly so, for it was some distance from village to village then and no rapid means of conveyance. ] Mother, some years ago, made a list of the owners of Benton's store. It may not be absolutely correct. They were: Samuel Wilcox, 1780-1802 Kent & Shepherd Squires and Stowe Rufus Smith Daniel Gillett, 1804-1811 Crocker & Parker Marshall & Hills Joseph Welch, Sr. Noah Cooley Charles Winchester Cooley & Curtiss Helen Benton In 1818 a Post Office opened up in this store with Reuben Hills as a Postmaster. It has been 83 years since the town's settlement. News had traveled mostly by word of mouth until then, I guess. It lasted until 1909 when the population had really dwindled and two other Post Offices had opened on Granville Hill and in Granville Corners from whence mail came by stage to West Granville and Tolland. The first driver I remember was Ed L. Holcomb with his team of white mules! The postal boxes were sold to Wiggins Tavern in Northampton and I saw them there, but do not know if they still survive. The early stores not only kept up a supply of necessities, but did much bartering. They took the cheese, butter, eggs, chestnuts, veal, in fact, whatever the farmers had a surplus of, and they received groceries or cash in return, or in some instances, an item, such as an umbrella, or a merino shawl �ordered by a wife. We got our groceries from J.M. Gibbons in Granville Corners for many years. We sent a large order of eggs and the grocery list one day by stage and received the groceries and the crate the next. We walked to the corner to pick them up. There was no door-to-door service-simple and easy! ! The West Granville store had ceased to stay open all day when I remember it as a child. You had to go to Mr. Welch's house, where George and Rudy live now, and get him to open up. I imagine he got a little sick of opening it for 5¢ worth of candy, but he always obliged. In earlier days, and now, it was open all day and evening. My uncle's diary of 1891 tells of going to the store in the evening mostly to visit with other customers and also to get the mail, papers and latest gossip. He had recently married Jennie Gibbs and they were living where David Day does with her parents, Joseph W. and Anna Gibbs. In that year they finally went to East Hartford, CT where they spent the rest of their lives. One sees many pictures of an old country store with the cracker barrel handy to the wood burning stove and to the checker game going full tilt, along side. I don't know if this went on in our store, but I expect it did. Outside of church services, which seem to have been held several nights a week at that time , and visits to the neighborhood, the store was the only source of social life. It was somewhat different from the huge modern impersonal supermarkets of today. They have everything one could wish for, are cheaper, but for some time have been slowly bringing an end to the village stores and neighborhood groceries. This is called progress. I call it rather a shame! Leona A. Clifford � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Documents, Articles, Other Printed Material Description An account of the resource Documents relating to Granville history. To view a larger version of any document, click on that document, then click the image thumbnail on the document's page. You will then see a full-size image including a "zoom" function which will make reading text easier. If you have old Granville documents to add please contact the library. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource "Long Ago Days" (PART 3 of 4) by Leona A. Clifford (1912-1990), Originally Published in The Granville Country Caller Description An account of the resource When Leona Aldrich Clifford passed on in 1990, her Country Caller articles were compiled by Ralph Hiers and reprinted in book form. All these copies were sold to benefit the Granville Library Club. In April of 2000, the Granville Historical Society invited Leona's granddaughter, Darcy Clifford Cooley to talk about her Grandmother at one of their series on the history of Granville. The talk was so well received that the Society asked Teddi Daley's 6th and 7th grade media classes at the Granville Middle School to retype the articles for republication. Chris Teter, Joan Clendenin, and Tiffany Blakesley also assisted with the typing and the Granville Historical Society members assisted with the proofreading and publishing. Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource Published 1980-1990 and 2000 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Granville Library Club, the Granville Historical Society, and the Clifford family. May not be reproduced without permission. Country Caller Granville Leona Clifford Long Ago Days Massachusetts West Granville https://d1y502jg6fpugt.cloudfront.net/34234/archive/files/8b4a038c99ccf250533e2c860e8e6b75.pdf?Expires=1776902400&Signature=amhF74YRe3-gctW3Am3OfFoKOn0EpCYOi2FRDjWVN7wnx8LTv5zBgYwFFH2GROzwlS4euxpdWqviS5rOMuy3GXMKlk8SlB4hSrpi3pggApnUpz7ISe4fOy1%7EGzyaF2JBx1egVRfFNxlbffh%7E3UIvvzLPkZIk7Bd%7EMW1cSAgqZ4sr0LD3EjI15jZHxhxsoi7LegqfjpyDez5tJ9Xinefgqb5yerixSjMxvkHn%7EC5DCvvAhUSfCyKZhniACdUETbZLyTKRVSyio8Q-MRwTwfQrgSnMkPtbhMsaGpApUz1rNqKjQb2hVHGdOu5XlIiEIqjx3Ij3J%7EPHsEN%7EF10bfTnARQ__&Key-Pair-Id=K6UGZS9ZTDSZM d1072ab642779140dff08e40ae4b7573 PDF Text Text October 1985 Long Ago Days Who Dun it? Every town, if it has been in existence long enough, has its mysteries and Granville is no exception. It has also had its crimes, human nature being what it is. In this month of Hobgoblins, witches and things that go bump in the night, I will try to remember what I've been told by past generations about some of them. About 1868 to 1869 Grandma and Grandpa Nelson were living in Tolland with Aunt Anna Barlow on what was later the Marshall place, formerly the Bill Snow Place, later the Wendell Hardy Place and now the ????? Place, recently sold. One day a strange man came to their door. He was a peddler with backpacks full of small household commodities such as pins, needles, thread, hair pins, combs, etc. In those days quite a few men made their livings this way, stores being some distance from many small country towns, and it was a long trip by horse and buggy. One could go on the stage, but it, too, was by horse and buggy and took even longer due to its nature --- picking up and delivering mail, often groceries and many times passengers. Peddlers of larger items such as pots, pans, lamps, wash boilers(What in the world is a wash boiler? Ask my grandchildren). They came along with a horse drawn wagon, and mother's cousin, Fred Drake of Westfield, ran a 'tin cart' for a long time. I have a good photo of him and his rig. But, to get back to the Tolland stranger, after the ladies selected their needs and the man packed his bags and walked off westward. No one gave him another thought. No one knew who he was or whence he came, he disappeared, supposedly, on his way to other towns and other homes. Several years later, a town derelict who drank too much, never worked if he could help it, and who had such a vile disposition, began to make the rounds of Tolland and vicinity. He was carrying backpacks like those of the long gone peddler and selling the same wares. People began to talk, but not where he could hear them, you may be sure, and no one dared go to the authorities, such as were available at the time, either. After a while the talk died down and the whole thing was only mentioned once and a while by the old timers. �Are the original peddlers bones lying in some remote part of Tolland? Grandpa and others, were always sure they were. In West Granville, some years later, 1880 or thereabouts, there lived a man who was a 'wanderer', albeit he had married and had several children of record were born to him and his wife from 1878 to 1888. Again, here was a habitual drunkard and 'ne'er-do-well'. On the rare occasions that he revisited the town, he seems to have paid unwelcorned calls on various in-laws. Very late one night he showed up at such a home, and, arousing the man of the house, ordered him to cook a meal. Shaking in his shoes, the relative-in-law complied, getting plenty of verbal abuse while doing so. As the old reprobate began to enjoy (?) his repast, the cook decided he'd had enough. This was not the first such occurrence and not likely to be the last. Many years later, as a very old man whose conscience was bothering him, he told of going to his well-filled wood box, picking up a hefty stick, and bashing in the head of the abuser. Hastily, in the dark, he then buried his victim in one of the holes already dug near the house where a new orchard was being planted. Then he planted a tree on top of him. No one ever missed him. If they ever gave him a thought as years passed and he never reappeared, it was probably that he'd come to some bad end just as they always knew he would!" Are his bones buried somewhere in that old and now totally dead orchard? Grandpa always thought so. He also thought he got what was corning to him! Not many years ago, an older woman visiting in Tolland, simply vanished from the face of the earth and no trace of her has ever been found. She simply went for a short walk and disappeared. Will we ever know the complete story on any of the mysteries? I doubt it, but I sure would like to!! My apologies for missing last month's Country Caller. It was quite a summer and I guess I simply ran out of steam! Leona A. Clifford II II 11 �November 1985 LONG AGO DAYS MURDER!!!!!!! In 1837 a man was murdered in the northwest part of West- Granville. The perpetrator of the crime, who was 'fond of the cup that cheers, learned that a friend living in that section had just purchased a new keg of rum and he decided to pay him a call, although it meant a walk of some distance. In the course of the visit the friend mentioned that his wife had left him and being pretty well 'loaded ', he began to carry on about his ill fortune and the fickleness of women, etc. The visitor, trying to help out, began to make some pretty disparaging remarks about his wife. They proceeded to get in a drunken row about it and said friend hit said visitor over the head with a stout wooden club. It seemed that he didn't mean to kill him, but it also came to seem that he had! There upon, the guilty one dragged the body out to a pond near the house and threw it in. Later on that day, still in a pretty inebriated state, he told another seeker of the rum that he had done his first visitor in and he was "where nobody would ever find him". However, he was found a day or two later floating in the pond. The trial at Springfield lasted quite a while and at the end of it the Gazette, Springfield, January 3, 1838, printed the following, "We regret that we could not obtain the sentence which the unfortunate criminal received last week, that we might spread it before the public". I have tried, in a vain, to find out what happened with no success. The murdered one left a wife, who lived to be almost 100 years old, and a batch of kids that 'turned out', as folks say, very well. One became a lawyer later a judge. For awhile it caused quite a furor in town. An old account book tells of a man being paid for trips to town with witnesses, for food and lodging for them, and for other necessities. The whole affair was dimmed by time as is most everything else. About 1908 or-so, a family moved into town from New York City. They had come from Europe, originally, and they bought the old Harger place. There were two women and two men. One woman and one man were brother and sister and with them was their mother. There were also one or two small children .... they, liked everyone back then, made some money in the summer, picking the high bush blueberries that were abundant in the pastures. They hired some young men from away to help with the harvest. I believe they were from the area of Chicopee, Mass. My dad had just recently arrived in town from his home in Grafton, Vermont where he had been a photographer, and the family decided they �would like him to photograph them .. ........ at that time the hired help decided they would like their pictured taken also. He was glad to oblige, but thought it was very strange that they wanted to have it taken sitting around a table with several liquor bottles on it and holding guns in their laps. However, they were young, and young men are very often "showoffs!" Girls? Never! Hal They never came to Dad for the picture, however, for in the meantime they discovered that the old mother kept the money for the blueberries on her person and they decided to steal it. They waited till the four younger people drove off to Tolland for the day to buy some little pigs, leaving the mother and children at home. The hired hands proceeded to lock the children in a closet, killed the grandmother and throw her in the well, and take off across the lots, with the money. Later on in the day the family returned and became much alarmed, and called neighbors and one of them discovered the body in the well. Then the search was on! The police came to Dad, hearing that, my father had taken that picture of the murderers and that he still had them. They were printed in the newspapers, circulated in the factories where they might try to find jobs, and were generally spread around. It worked and they were finally caught and wound up in prison. I think there were three of them, but one was found not guilty. Two were sentenced to death. One died in prison, I believe of TB, before his sentence was carried out and the other was executed. As far as I know, these were the only two murders to take place in West Granville, though there may have been others long ago. Strange that both happened on the same street! Today only one family lives on it, where in 1910 many did and in 1837 even more. Now that whole part of town had gone back to wood and underbrush--only the old cellar holes with their lilacs and day lilies remain, and they are sometimes hard to spot. Even the memories of the two gruesome occurrences have just about faded away. John Clifford Ivory, grandson of Leona A. Clifford, who graduated with honors from the high school at Lompoc, California in June, and who was awarded a lifetime membership in the California Scholarship Association, has entered the pre-engineering course at the University of California at San Diego. His mother is the former Kathleen Clifford and was a graduate of Westfield High School and the University of Massachusetts. His father, John F. Ivory was graduated from Springfield, Massachusetts schools and American International College. No two ways about it, Leona is very proud Grandma! Leona A. Clifford �January 1986 Long Ago Days In 1884, Mrs. Ansel King of Granville was a reporter for the Westfield Times and News Letter. She used the pen name of DAN. I invite you to take a trip through town with me via the poem given to my mother, Ruth Aldrich, by the late Bertha Lindercum Broadbent of Westfield. Seven words seem to be missing, but I think it is interesting and hope you will, too. I know nothing about the King family, but I think Ansel was a butcher---probably the one referred to in the poem. Dan's Address You ask how do we manage to live Out here in Granville, among the hills? Take a seat in my sleigh, while we ride I'll show you our village, with a great deal of pride. First, up Water Street we will drive, To see how Edward Holcomb does thrive, Making ladders, kegs and shingles. Yes, tis cold, your ears will tingle, But we will stop at Clem Holcomb's & Son; They make planers which are very well done, Also several kinds of screws, While Catfield Carpenter mends our shoes; If he cannot, to suit, and quickly, He'll turn you over to Jim Ripley. M. T. Gibbons makes the screw bung; But there, I forgot, was a slip of the tongue, (For--it's a very private affair, And carried on with a great deal of care.) Here, Noble & Cooley all kinds of toy make, We hope they'll live always, for the Corner's sake; Their boxes, croquet, drums and tambourine, Can in all of our cities be seen. Then everyone wants, (especially 'bricks',) (?) Some of their lighters and toothpicks; Here, too, some curious machinery you'll see, For Noble can fix such things to a T. Yes, there are men to bring in the money, While Godard's the man to furnish the honey. �Now, if you are not in too much of a hurry, We'll just step across and see friend Murry. (Gibbons?) Here we can buy meal, flour and feed, In fact, almost anything we need. While King's just the man to furnish us meat, And Friday night oysters, luscious and sweet. T. C. Gillett will keep us in prints, Teas, coffees, sugars and peppermints. While Gustin Holcomb our cattle can shoe, He, for this winter, has fixed something new. What's that you say? You ~re getting dry? Then we'll stop into Hayden's; how's that for high? Now we are ready to go down to Dick's, He makes drums but not toothpicks. Talismans and hooples round, As good as any that can be found. Now as we turn to go up the hill, We'll stop a minute at B.C. Dickinson's mill. If your fingers get cold, or you horse ever skips, Frank Holcomb will furnish you mittens and whips. Then if we want our horses to feel merry, Why, we just get them shod by Jerry. Now Henry will make you cart, wagon or sleigh, And no one will do it for any less pay. Largely in tobacco, deal Seymour and Rose, And are making money, as we suppose. Now we have reached the top of the town, We will enter the store of R.S. Brown; He always a good assortment will keep, Sometimes, we can buy of him quite cheap. J. H. Andrews buys, sells kills, Besides running several other mills. Linus Hubbard can mend their shoes, And while doing it, them the news. If you'd ride in the stage without capsizing, Just get aboard with Philo Rising; But if East you intend to go, Get in with Rob, he ain't very slow; If West, you must take John Robert's line, I think, it's beautiful if the weather's fine. �Then we've educated priests, lawyers, doctors and clowns, But most of them we've sent out of town. We've one Congregational minister, Baptist two, (The Universalist 'sorter' fell through). We have only three ministers that preach, But they practice about as they teach. We are inclined to think they had a call To tell us about old Adams fall So while your physical needs but _ _ _ __ Your morals need the attention of- - - Not so, but ministers can't- - - - - - - But are ready long before to say amen. Not so. Then we have reporters, one, two and three, As all that read the newspaper can see. Inventors, we have more than a span, Beat this, any small town that can. Children! Yes bless their small hearts, For we often think that they are the charts, To point us to the 'Father' above, The Father of patience, goodness and love, Then, most of our fathers get from the soil, Enough to repay their labor and toil. Of course we have rich, while some are so poor, That the wolf comes unpleasantly near the door. But, as a town, I think we are blest. We are glad of the good, of the ill make the best, Now we have reached the end of our drive, Just in time to commence 1885, Which I do by wishing a " Happy New Year," To the old, and young, and children dear. All through the year, I hope you will thrive, While I continue my ' one horse' to drive. Around, picking up news, which I'll try to give, So that both the Times and I can live. Overlooking the faults of all that I can, Hoping you'll do the same by your servant. Dan (Leona A. Clifford) �February 1986 Long Ago Days (The Sunday Springfield Republican, September 13, 1903) "Bits of old New England, Granville's West and Center" West Village's Resurrection A vacation ground which is growing into the favor of local people. Twenty-five miles west of here, 4 1/2 hours in time, an hour further than New York City, lies the Silent Country. Each day from Westfield the dusty stages drag heavily up along the same old roads from new New England to Old New England--a land of fifty years ago; to where the dead towns of Center Granville, West Granville and Tolland stand upon their hills. No greater change in circumstances of life could be found in circling the globe than in this long quarter of a hundred miles. No electric cars, shrieking motors, no street lights here. Through the long day you sit and take your fill of silence; the crickets sing about the hedgerows and the old cellar holes, the swifts fly over the uncut grass in the old mowing fields. And through the long nights, under the wide dark skies unblemished by electricity, you hear in intervals of sleep the apples in the neglected orchards falling to the ground. No place can give the nervous city dweller more rest than this. By half past nine or so, the day is thoroughly done, and the natives of West Granville and Tolland have shut the old front door and officially buttoned themselves up in their sleeping rooms with their old fashioned wooden buttons, for another night of country sleep. In 1790 things were looking up in Granville; the Secretary of the Granville Board of Trade (???), (Who??) stated he was much pleased with the town's advance. It was bigger than Springfield by four hundred souls. Moreover, it had grown from 682 in 1765 to 1176 in 1776 while Springfield only had 1574 compared to Granville's 1974 in 1790. West Springfield was queen of Hampden County then --(it was still Hampshire County until 1812) with 2367 population. Westfield came in second with 2204 and here was Granville third with it's 1974 -- trebled you see in twenty-five years. In 1800 it had only three less people than Springfield, which had 2312 to Granville's 2309. From that time on things have turned different ways. Granville of 1900 was half Granville of 1800. Springfield was nearly 30 times the Springfield of the century �before, and 50 times both Granville and Tolland, which town was included in the Granville at the early days (until 1812). The hills have grown lean and the valleys fat with the advent of machinemade urban movement. All these years eastern Granville has kept pretty stationery, has even made some little noise in the world, as it were, having a drum shop as its principle industry; but these same years West Granville has withered away until at last it became the sad, unpainted, half-ruined hamlet which was discovered by the little Springfield colony which started there five years ago, 1898. West Granville has the distinction among the hills towns of being the one which was blown off the hill. It is bleak in West Granville when the winter winds are blowing - especially on Liberty Hill. They started their town there 250 feet higher than Mt. Torn. In a patch of Tansey by the roadside you may still see the last ruins of the old stone block house which they built for protection from the Indians; on South Lane which leads along the southern slope of the hill stood the old tavern, whose keeper spent a versatile life between the extremes of selling rum and shoemaking. There was a tavern further down the hill and a store. Then the winds blew and the snow came and blew against the town, so that the inhabitants broke up housekeeping and moved bodily, store, tavern and all -- down into the little hollow. Little remains of the oldest settlement but old Liberty Hill, bare among its wooded sister peaks. (This was the hill opposite Bill Heino's I think). Where it was cleared more than a century ago for a single man's occupancy; with its fallen Liberty pole and its one little schoolhouse, which maintains the proud distinction of being the highest institution of learning in Hampden County (again??). Down below the grey country roads leads into the green pocket in the hills, where lies the present village of West Granville. The village of West Granville is not large, as histories go. It has had its church, something rather striking in the line of New England's wooden cathedrals, with a horned altar tower and horned subsidiary elevations on either side, apparently intended for the reception of statues of defunct deacons, its Academy and its village store. It raised, in old days, one celebrity in the person of Rev. Lemuel Haynes, a Negro preacher of such eloquence that he was settled over white congregations. He was raised by good old Deacon David Rose; got his education by reading nights, by pine knots, edified the deacon's family Saturday nights by reading sermons. One night he read a particularly exciting one. "Lemuel," said the Deacon very �earnestly, "Whose work was that you were reading? Is it David's sermon or Watt's or Whitfield's?" The deacon favored the idea it was Whitfield's. "Sir" said the youth, and he blushed, according to tradition and local historians, "it was Lemuel's." From that time on it was smooth sailing for Lemuel; he was discovered. President Dwight of Yale listened to him at New Haven with zest; many of his own fellow students favored him for the West Granville pulpit. And when good old Mr. Booge, the final pastor was settled, the Hayne's experience went so far as to ask sneeringly, "Do you call this white preaching?" Lemuel was called elsewhere, however, and died, honored and respected, at the age of 80 in Granville, New York. At this time, and ever since, people who knew his article, were, to put it mildly, upset. The writer, who should have known better, certainly did not raise very high in his neighbor's estimation, and showed much ignorance. Leona A. Clifford �March 1986 Long Ago Days Francena ( Reed ) Nelson's Scrapbook West Granville, too, had its industries. There were sheep and cattle on those New England hills in the old days; the farmers fatted them up and drove them down the valleys to Hartford, which in contrast with Springfield, had been for long years principle market city. But cattle and sheep naturally led to tanning and within a quarter of a century the town had its tannery-quite a prosperous institution too, for which hides were supplied by neighboring herds, and from which were shipped away in the rough to the cities. Tanning naturally led to the making of pocketbooks and harnesses, the latter industry flourishing in war times. Moreover, this was a great center, a radiating point, from which the peddler went out to forage in the wide, wide world. They fitted here at one place of supply and went as far as the southern states, where, according to old accounts, they sadly gouged the chivalrous but ignorant southern gentlemen, sometimes getting 2 and 3 hundred dollars for five dollar items, according to the gullibility and intoxication of their victims. All this happy order of events is gone with the remaining industries; even the wood is worked out; on the roads at the four corners of the compass, saw mill and shingle mill lie; roffs down, old up and down saws rusted out, old overshot wheels falling to ruins along the little crazy mountain brooks which once ran them. One wheel was 30 feet across, they say. Even the farmers are not worked for lack of workers and means of transportation. The apples rot in the orchards and hay stands withering into the fall, not worth the effort of its cutting. It was a desolate April morning m 1898-- stormy skies, bare brush snow squalls in the air when its "discoverer" stood on the brow of the Liberty hill and Hamlet was at a low ebb; half the houses empty, chimneys down, hearthstones fallen into the cellars, dull gray unpainted clapboards, half molted. In the principle dwelling in the village, the roof was so far gone that you could see through in places, and in the main part, although the "L" was still inhabited, the water filtering through the walls and ceilings, stood in pools on the unsteady floors. The old Parson's Tavern, in the center of the place, lay in ruins where it had recently burned down. The church with its horned altar steeple and the chapel, once the old academy, odd old mother and daughter sat brooding wistfully over the bleak little common. The cost of the land and dwellings was preposterously low. The whole town was �evidently fast driving back to its original valuation when it was bought from a kind Indian for 1 gun and 16 bright buttons! My Commentary on the Last Two Articles! In 1903 I was certainly not even a gleam in my mother's or father's eyes, for that matter! It would be nine years before I arrived on the scene. However, West Granville never seemed to me to have been quite the gruesome condition the "discoverer" describes. There was more to his description but most of that wasn't worth copying for he begins to give whoever might read the piece, the idea that it was a small group of Springfield big-wigs that finally were the salvation of the town. I wonder what my dear departed grandfather, Major Nelson, Cyrus Ives and Gilbert Miller, the Ripleys and others of the town fathers, thought of the "discoverer's " ideas of "uncut mowing lots" and "apples left to rot on the ground " Grandpa, for one, and I dare say the others, would have been indignant, to say the least. As for the wooden buttons used to lock their doors for the night-- as long as any of us lived on the Nelson Farm, no door was locked, wooden button or otherwise! I imagine the others did the same. The settlement as he calls it, on East Hill may have blown down into the valley but there are still houses standing, almost from the earliest days that were so fortunate as to be built in all corners of the town and Tolland as well. Its seems to me, in 1918 when I started school and became also acquainted with Mr. Joe Welch's penny candy, that most of the town was in pretty good shape. The only decrepit house really giving up and falling down by bits and pieces was the Terret place where Helen Benton now lives, I remember very well when it got its new lease on life from William Reeves. Well, everyone to their own opinion as the old lady said when she kissed the cow, but I think the "discoverer" was a dreamer giving himself a great big pat on the back for claiming miracle as regards West Granville. For sure he did not take the time to really investigate its true history. By now most of you know what I think of Granville and West Granville in particular, where I was born-- The best Little Town in Massachusetts!! I pray we are never discovered in such a light again, by such an ignoramous ! Leona A. Clifford �April 1986 Long Ago Days With February just around the corner, our good neighbors the Leupinskis are sending once more for all sorts of seeds. They raise many vegetables and my sister and I are lucky to have them and their vegetable stand next door. We wouldn't have any produce as fresh if we raised it ourselves. They work extremely long hard hours with many difficulties such as too much rain, not enough rain, all kinds of bugs and worms that like fresh vegetables as much as we do, plus raccoons in their corn patches come fall. From somewhere a while ago, I think one of Mother's numerous boxes of papers, I found the following clipping. I thought it was hilarious and also very true. I'm sure Granville garden growers, large and small will agree! A SUMMER FABLE There was once a man filled with vim and vigor, and yearned for a garden, for he had been reading a seed catalog and gentle Spring had come. "Gee whillikers !" he chirped. "Just look at those tomatoes and that corn! And those beans! And the cucumbers, too! Ain't they the cat's whiskers? Mmmmmmmmm, me thinks I'll plant a garden and raise vegetables. It's great sport, they say, and you live on top of the world." So he sent in a large order for corn and beans, etc. and he bought himself a hoe, a spade, and a work shirt, too. And a bag of 4-5-6, or something like that. Then when the merry month of May was outside, and the ground was mellow, he rolled up his sleeves and spaded up his back yard. There he planted his corn and beans and cucumbers, and there he set out his tomato plants. Aye, it was May and the robins were singing in the trees, the sun was smiling sweetly and all was lovely as a marriage feast. And when he had finished, "Ha ha!" he chortled. "This garden business is sure great stuff. It puts the bezum into a fellow. It will make a man of me." And he went inside and washed up. Now it came to pass after a week or so that the man sauntered out into his garden, and lo, his corn and beans, etc., were all up and smiling at him, and his tomato plants were no longer droopy. Then did his soul rejoice for the nonce. That is, until his eyes beheld' something else: to wit, a measly mess of ragweed and little shoots of parsley grass and clover sprouting up all over the place. And they were smiling up at him also. Then did he wax exceedingly wrathful. "Ye Gods!" he snarled. "So you are here. Well you watch. I'll settle your hash." So with his goodly hoe he waded it. But now the sun was hot for it was June, and when he finished mauling the weeds he wiped his brow and �whistled, "Gee whiz, but this garden business is warm work. It makes a fellow sweat." And he went in and changed his shirt. Now it came to pass that during that very night the clouds came over and there were copious showers. And when the morrow morn had come, and the strong man strolled again into his garden, lo and behold, ragweed, parsley and company were all standing up once more and ready for business. It was even so, and the man's spirit was sorely vexed. "Holy smoke," he whistled. "What's all this? Have I got to weild the hoe again? Gad zooks, but it looks like this garden business isn't all it's cracked up to be. It ain't all beer and skittles. Oh well, I'll give the place a lick tomorrow, yes, tomorrow I'll do it so help me Isaac." And he put on his hat and went to town. But when the morrow morn had come, his Isaac hadn't showed up. But the sun did and it was plenty hot. So it came to pass that when the man took his hoe and sauntered into his garden, again with his spirit troubled. He looked upon his feeble corn and beans, and then again upon his lusty weeds, and he frowned. "Heck," quoth he, " all this talk about raising your own vegetables is just a lot of hooie. Why should I blister my skin and wear myself out doing it? It means work and the market is full of vegetables. Blah!" So he hung his hoe on the fence, put on his best shirt, and strolled off down to the park where a ball game was going on. And there he enjoyed himself. And that is why around the middle of July his garden looked liked a Hooraw's nest, and his wife had to go to the market with her sheckles to get her corn and beans and cucumbers and tomatoes. And through the long winter there was nothing in the cellar but cobwebs. MORAL: Watching a ball game is a lot more fun than hoeing corn and beans. Someone named H.J. Fenton wrote this. My father and mother, farming under many difficulties, the same as the poor soul above, made a very good job of it, but she apparently saw the humor of the situation and saved it for posterity-----ME ! Leona A. Clifford �July 1986 Long Ago Days Having been in a low frame of mind lately, possibly spring fever, I haven't been writing much, although "Kill or Cure" was in the last Stone Walls magazine. Life was as busy as ever mostly with doctors visits and funerals. The only bright spot was my beautiful granddaughter's graduation. Also, I am slowing down and everything takes longer to accomplish, it seams. I wanted to tackle the old West Granville Tavern Stand as my next project but I ran into problems. In spite of several trips to the Registry of Deeds, I found only two deeds where someone bought the property as a Tavern Stand in West Granville. I more or less gave up---there is still a lot to do on the rest of the town. So, I give you a list of owners, correct or not. that I found in Mother's papers about the place which she called the "Hotel Property." Thaddeus Squire & Stephen Stowe . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1 8 0 2 Frank Baker. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ? Abiel Pease .................................... 1 8 3 7 Frances Clark. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1 8 4 3 - 4 4 William Squires to Aaron Curtiss. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1 8 4 7 David Merwin .................................. 1 8 5 2 Aaron Curtiss to Samuel Harks . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 185 7 Samuel Marks to Dennison Parsons. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 18 6 1 Dennison Parsons to Horace Parsons, I. . . . . . . . . . . . 1 8 7 0 (Here she left a blank with a note saying "Dwight Merriam and Henry Soule came in here somewhere.") William Wallace to Augusta (Hayes) Tifft. . . . . . . . . . 1 8 9 3 Augusta H. Tifft to Horace Parsons II . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1 8 9 4 Horace Parsons to Vincent Barnes. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1896-mortage? Vincent Barnes to Augusta H. Tifft. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1 8 9 7 Augusta H. Tifft to Eva Rice ...................... 189 7 Alcohol is a worrisome thing today as it was then. A most interesting history of Hadley, Massachusetts, settled in 1659, incorporated in 1661, tells of the settlers' worries about alcohol consumption and what it was doing or might do to their descendants. I don't think things have improved much! There were many taverns in town. Given Mr. Wilson's list of tavern keepers and license holders, one can count several hundred names albeit some were listed more than once. There were 1126 people in town to drink up the goods from 1776 and on until Granville went dry in1886 or so. In �spite of that fact, BOOZE was always available, if only hard cider! Our picture shows the old tavern as a large two story house between the store and Helena Duris' house. It has a full length porch in front with two entrance doors over which is a sign, "Groceries." There is also a larger grocery sign propped up against one wall. All this, in spite of the fact that the village store had been next door for years. Thaddeus Squire bought the property from the heirs of Calvin Coe in 1806. Who built the house, I do not know. In any case it survived about 100 years before it burned in the late l 900's . The Rice's from Springfield built the 'beginnings' of the house of the late Joseph and Cora Welch, now standing there and which they made into a nice year round home. To the Rices it was a summer place. In the earliest days, and much later, the churches held two services per day. One can imagine that with almost no heat, (my father said he "liked to have froze to death" enduring this type of Sunday services at Winham, Vermont as a child) the Tavern must have been a popular spot where the men could warn their insides, at least! What the rest did is fearful to think about--maybe their little foot-stoves helped them but I am surprised that the whole congregation didn't die of pneumonia or quick consumption. Indeed, in most ways our forbearers were a hardy race!! *Note: Henry Soule gave a dance at the Hotel which was largely attended. Henry Fancher prompted, (Scrapbook of Anna Nelson Clarke, no date) Mr. Soule was the grandfather of the late Cora Welch. Leona A. Clifford �September 1986 Long Ago Days Teaching In The Good Old Days Some stern rules, by our standards, for teachers, were posted in 1872 by a New York principal. They are listed here for your amusement and perhaps, thankfulness! I. Teachers, each day will fill lamps, clean chimneys and clean wicks. 2. Each teacher will bring a bucket of water and a scuttle of coal for the days session. 3. Make your pen carefully. You may whittle nibs to the individual tastes of the pupils. 4. Men teachers may take one evening per week for courting purposes, or two evenings per week if they go to church regularly. 5. After 10 hours in school, the teachers should spend the remaining time reading the Bible or other good books. 6. Women teachers who marry, or engage in unseemly conduct, will be dismissed. 7. Every teacher should lay aside from each pay a goodly sum of money from his earnings for his benefit during his declining years so he will not become a burden to society. 8. Any teacher who smokes, uses liquor in any form, frequents pool or public halls, or gets shaved in a barber shop, will give good reason to suspect his worth, intentions, integrity and honesty. 9. The teacher who performs his labors faithfully and without fault, for five years will be given an increase of 25¢ per week in his pay, providing the Board of Education approves ................... WHEW! The above from a Columbia University Weekly Newsletter of Teachers College (And today's teachers think they have it hard!) Leona. A. Clifford �October 1986 Long Ago Days This has been a pretty mixed up summer, at least for me. I thought to keep on with old West Granville houses, etc. However I got off the track and am in the "twilight zone" to one extent or another, so that will have to wait awhile. However, I had good luck in regards to my personal paternal genealogy so I'll bore you with some of that. On July 19th and 20th the annual Aldrich Association was held in Bellingham, Ma. near Medway and May and I attended. I know she is not much interested in it but it was a case of bribery! She would go with me if I would go to Cape Cod with her this September, as I have for several years and which I had planned !l.Q.1 to do in 1986. It has become a very frustrating vacation for I can no longer negotiate the hundred or so steps from the beach and I can no long walk long distances, or in rough going, as I used to love to do.---better to forget it! I have has a lot of pressure and much aggravation tracing my "Roots". This is pretty common when said· roots lead back to the 1600's-- you find a dead end or two sooner or later. Sometimes it's more of a dead middle! George Aldrich. The first to come, a tailor from Derbyshire, England arrived in 1640(?), He lived in both Dorchester and Braintree for awhile then became one of the first settlers of Mendon, Ma. Where he spent the rest of his life except for a short period when the town came under Indian attack. He returned to it though and lived and died and is buried there. The family increased and multiplied in that area for just over the line in Rhode Island is an u.ld Aldrich cemetery. For a long time Ralph Aldrich of Port Washington, L.I. spent his retirement years, with his wife, compiling a history of the family but though he finished it, he died before he could get it published. Penacook, NH, attended and she brought along one section of their work for members to see. It happened to be of my "line". She now plans to get it printed and I can hardly wait. I did not get to read all of what she brought but I got the "hi-lights" and after years of searching and coming, As she said, pretty close, I know "who I am" as people say today. We decided that one of the drawbacks to good accurate family records 1s that people are just so busy living when they are young, and only getting interested as they become older, is that many of the family who could have told them so many, many things are now dead. This means long periods of looking for what those fathers, mothers, grandparents, and in many cases �great grandparents knew about and could have told them, and that happened to me on all of my lines---Aldrich, Richardsen, Nelson and Reed. Also, at retirement the time left to us is SHORT for careful, meticulous research such as Ralph's and Pearl's. Every year we attend these reunions we are apt to pick up some more bits and pieces about our forebears even though most of the people who come are not, so to speak, closely related to me, but all of us go back to George ( 1), Jacob (2), or David(30 or David (3) and then spread out. Today we reach from shore to shore, possibly further. In the 1850's during the great migrations westward, five of my grandfather's children joined in it, moving to Illinois, Indiana, Minnesota, Ohio and Iowa. 1892 is about the last any of the "stay at homes" heard from any of them. Most had died that had known each other in either section of the country. News, as it were, petered out! Two years ago I had the extremely good luck to find a descendant of my great uncle Henry Aldrich who went so long ago to Indiana. (He was brother to my grandfather, Isaac Aldrich. This man, much younger than me. Lives in Andover, Minnesota. He has sent me scads of materials on the five of the "Westward Ho" group and many of them have now reached the coast of California, just has illj'._ daughter, Kathleen. On Aug. 24, 25, and 26 this year he (Jan Scott Aldrich) and his wife Suzanne visited us. They were just ~ people! We crowded a lot of things into those three days! We had a quick tour of Granville, and on the 24th we visited Londonderry Vt. Where Isaac, Henry and ten more of their brothers AND sisters were born. (Two others died young) We visited cemeteries, old home sites (Great Grandpa's house is now gone- torn down to widen the roadIt was a beautiful two story brick house) He was Clark Aldrich, born 1774, died 1854, and his wife Jerusha Bidwell, born 1779, died 1849. We also visited the town clerk's office where they were very helpful, and the Windham Registery of Probate at Bellows Falls. In general we covered a lot of ground and in general had a wonderful day, winding it all up with an excellent dinner at the Sheraton restaurant in Westfield. How I hated to see them leave! It is hard to cover the one hundred and eighty years of our family members in Vermont in such a short time. We did our best though, and their visit was the "Highlight" of my life for 1986. Leona Aldrich Clifford(9); George (8), Isaac(?), Clark (6), Alexander (5), Jeremiah(4), John (3), Jacob (2) and George (1) Leona A. Clifford �January 1987 Long Ago Days The old year, as it was slipping away, brought me a fascinating experience! On Nov. 10 I had a most interesting visitor; Gloria (Stewart) Leith and her husband John, of Bonita , California. She was following a trail of over 200 years back to her west Granville ancestors. With Helena Duris, we enjoyed a lovely tea party and an interesting discussion as to her forbears. Earlier, before darkness fell, we had visited the cemetery and the church where Rudy had opened and warmed a bit for us. She fell in love with it and with the old houses in town, especially the brick house west of the town green and the house on East Hill formerly Abraham and May, which seems to have been the house of Aaron Jordan Booge that he bought of the lawyer Thomas Lloyd in 1786. She took many pictures in and hopes some day to write a book about her family. Gloria, a perfectly lovely lady, is a direct descendant of Capt. Benjamin Barnes who has been quietly resting in the graveyard for 10 years along with his two wives, Mary coe, daughter of Ephram Coe, born in Durham, CT and mother of all his children, and his second wife Lucretia Sackett already married twice daughter of Benoni Sackett of Westfield. Many of his family is around him in that peaceful spot! Benjamin was a veteran of the last Indian war circa 1766 , and the Revolution and conquered and escaped many difficult and dangerous situations, especially the massacure of unreadable (English then) troups at Fort Henry by General Montcalm's Indians even though he had Unreadable, Gloria is also a direct descendant of the first ordained minister of the church at west Granville , the Rev. Aaron Jordan Booge and his wife Grace Thrall Booge. Rev. Booge a graduate of Yale was also in the Revolutionary War in it's early days, but about 1777 he went to preach at Turkey Hills, then a part Simsbury, CT but now East Granby. Times were HARD for some time after the war and a discussion arose over MONEY! He therefore left and came to West Granville in 1786 where he bought the Loyd place. He was the son of Ebenezer Booge (John) born in Scotland, who had come to the church at that part of Farmington, now on West Avon, CT where he and several other brothers and sisters were born. He was the oldest and the youngest Rev. Publius Virgilius Booge, married Catherine daughter of Timothy Robinson and preached at Winchester, CT of which Winsted is a section. Capt. Benjamin had a son named Elijah who married in Oct. 1792 Sally H, Booge whom we assume to have been the oldest child of Rev. Aaron's 8 children. In 1787 Elijah bought land from his father; one boundary being a �heap of stones in the middle of Peebles brook ....... (Beech Hill?). About three months after his marrige, he sold the property back to his father and he and Sally moved to Schroon, NY where they eventually died and are buried. Their daughter Lucy married David Hall of Blanford, MA and they too moved west. As time went by, with much more "west ward ho" , and some name changes, it came about that Gloria Tewart Leigh was born in St. Louis, MO. Still further on, she married John Leith in San Diego, CA. She has two children who are also interested in family. Goodness knows where they may move to! Before she came, Gloria mailed me 80 pages of charts, clippings.etc. Which she had xeroxed. She hoped to get it all together some day and she had planned for some time o visit the several New England towns of her " roots." It is hard, yet impossible to cover 200 years in two weeks but she did nobly. She had been to Schroon, NY and looked up graves and to Lebanon where Rev. Aaron and several of his family lie. She went to Boxford, MA where a great grandfather (?) preached. Here she had seen the only remaining item of the Rev. Aaron, the grave, near the Barnes lot, o his 17 year old son, Ulricius Zuyinglices Booge. Leaving here they visited several Connecticut places but Veterans Day interfered with some and they at last returned home. About a week ago I had a letter from Gloria and she now thinks she has found that Sally Hall Booge was born in Pomfret, VT. This may be right. I heard of Certain connections to Vermont before but did not know when or where. She send a donation to the church. It was a real pleasure to meet her and be able to find more yet on these two families. Such early settlers are a project dear to my heart. I was thrilled and only pray that some time she can come back. Leona A. Clifford �1982 - HENRY JOHNSON - 1986 Henry Johnson, one of Granville's oldest citizens, passed away on December 16. He was born in Tolland, MA on June 10, 1982, the son of Abner and Wealthy (Keep) Johnson. He spent most of his life in Granville. He was a woodsman and carpenter. Through his mother, he was a direct descendant of John Keep, one of Springfield's early settlers, circa 1650, who was somewhat prominent in town affairs. While he, his wife Sara Leonard Keep and infant son Jabez were on their way from their home in 'the Longmeadow' to church in Springfield, they were attacked and killed along with several others, in the attack and burning of Springfield on March 26, 1976. Their other children, who had stayed at home, were raised by their Grandmother Leonard in Agawam. Through the Leonard line they were said to be descended from William the Conqueror. Henry was one more of the fast disappearing veterans of World War I, a member of Company E., 102nd Infantry and was a member of American Legion Post 124 for fifty-eight years. His wife, Bessie (Peebles) Johnson died in 1967. He leaves four children; Bernice of Southwick, Beverly of Westfield, Marilyn Brasier of Derry, NH and Thelma Barnes of Oakfield, ME. He also leaves several grandchildren and several cousins. Clarence Mott and Maurice Carr of Tolland and George Carr of Southampton, MA. He descended from a distinguished pioneer family over 300 years time. Our sympathy goes to his family. I know he will be missed. Leona A. Clifford �March 1987 Long Ago Days South from Granville Center (West) runs the "Hartland Hollow" road. It was a quiet peaceful place and we traveled it some in those old days. I don't know when it came into existence but it was not there real early. (I think the first road came to the "Hollow" was no doubt South Lane 2). Eventually it came to be and several families lived there. Pond Brook pretty much followed it on the east meandering hither and on until it crossed into the Hubbard River near the Conn. line. The first house on the right was that of Elvira Chapman and her sons; her husband was Edward and he was a Civil War veteran who died in 1900. I never saw him. They had five children and Charley and George lived with her. Another son, Will, was the first person I remember, as "retiring" from his job and coming home where he kept house for the rest. I think he worked all his life for a lumberman, Rob Ward, in Conn. When I was small one of the boys had found a pure white (albino) crow which was kept in a box in the kitchen. Daddy took us down to see him. He was beautiful but noisy like all of his ilk, also messy. but I was fascinated. I had never seen one before nor have I since. I was also fascinated to see Grandma Chapman smoking a pipe, which many old ladies did years ago. My husband's grandma came from Ireland and she smoked clay pipes. This family owned simply a huge iron kettle, probably in days gone by, used for making soap, etc. They were most kind in lending it out in hog butchering time and I think it made the rounds of the town in the fall. I know Daddy used it as a scalding tub. He would go after it and then either take it back or to the next "burrower" on his list. On trips, to and fro, we visited with Mrs. Chapman, an interesting old lady. When she died in 1932 she was ninety and had a lot of memories to tell. On February 6, 1934 the house burned to the ground and Charlie died in the fire. It was a bitterly cold night and all got out safely, but for some reason Charlie went back in, possibly for some money or some treasured possession and didn't' make it out. Lester Sattler eventually built a new house there. My mother always referred to it as the "Rice place." Below on the left once stood the home of Elvira Chapman's parents, William and Sophia Keep, and not so many years ago her grandson Wallace Chaman raised a new house on the property. I never remembered the "Keep place." Across the road was a small house, the home of Etta Harrington. She was the daughter of Elvira and lived there with her three children, Myrtle, Olive, and Frank, Jr. Her husband, Frank, Sr., went insane and died after many years at the Northampton Insane Asylum in 1923. (My husband used to think it �strange that when he said he was from Northampton, Granvillites would say, "Oh, yes, where the crazy house is! No one ever mentioned Smith College or anything else of note in the place of which there was so much!) I never saw Frank Harrington but went to school with the three children. The oldest girl, Elsie lived with her Grandma Chapman to help out there but she finally married Anson Barnes, whom I believe was from the Winsted-Colebrook, Ct. area. The house went-burned, I think but I think newer house stands on that property, too. Below Etta was the old home of Edward Chapman's parents(?). His father was Jehiel and his mother was Elize Griffen. He was born in Glastenbury and she is Granby, Ct. I suppose Edward lived there until he married his neighbor, "up the road apiece." In my day, Fred, another son of Elvira's, lived there with his wife and former Naomi Cook of Blandford, Helena, much younger who died at fourteen in 1943 of encephalitis. She was a red head, (my favorite color) and smart and it was a tragedy as young people's deaths always are. Below them on old forest place (Mother again) lived Fred and Nellie Coe. She used to tell a horror story of being married off to an old man by her father when she lived in Chicago. She was like fifteen years old! How she met Fred I don't know but I think he descended from West Granville Coes and lived in Springfield when they married. I remember going down there and finding Nellie, her palm leaf hat firmly on her head, fishing in the small stream that ran through the meadow south of the house. It was a most pleasant place as I remember it. It was finally sold to the Hartford Ct. Water Co. and torn down. After that Nellie lived opposite Mercy Hospital in Springfield. We used to take mother to visit her but Fred had died by then. Fred was not socially minded but Nellie took in what ever bits of it there was in those days. She never missed the main events, the .. church suppers followed by dancing. She loved to dance! She would arrive at the hall carrying a kerosene lantern and a revolver and when she decided to take off for home she would light the lantern and take off on foot prepared for anything getting in her way. She had the reputation of being a fine shot! Below lived once Ed Smith, the Cornwells and . Stevens. I think the first two were in Mass. and Mr. Stevens in Conn. Next month I am going to carry this a bit further for we went to visit down in Conn. section and there was some goings on between the people there and those in West Granville. There are too many memories to ignore and this story is getting to long! Leona A. Clifford �April 1987 Long Ago Days We're going to sneak into Connecticut a bit this month--Hartland Hollow, now underneath the waters of the Hartford Reservoir. In earlier days there was considerable communication between West Granville and the Hollow (has it ever occurred to you that most of Granville's water goes to the cities of Westfield and Springfield, Massachusetts and Hartford, Connecticut? The latter has three reservoirs for drinking water and a fourth for power.) Well, after leaving the old Cornwell cellar hole where Henry Green was living in 1855 and 1870 - He married Harriet Cornwell - you find across the road the sites of Dr. Ed Smith, Phineas Stevens and Ed Barnes who ran a mill where Pond Brook meets the Hubbard River. Phineas Stevens who married Harriet Persons of West Granville. Her father, Horace, ran the West Granville Hotel. Their son, Fred married Addie Harger, great aunt of Arthur Sheets and Alice Petersen and mother of Pearl Stevens who married Andrew Duris, Sr. of West Granville. I am not any longer able to remember just where you crossed the state line but it wasn't far. You then connected with Connecticut Route 20, and if you turned left you came to the home site of Benjamin Clark, Sr. and his mill on Valley Brook. His brother Fred, married my aunt Annie and they lived on a dead end road just before Ben's place and just before South Lane #2 comes out. Aunt Annie taught the North Hollow School once in a while as a substitute, though she never went beyond the ninth grade herself. The poor women died in her home at age 29 after an operation on the kitchen table for appendicitis! Benjamin Clark, Sr., lost his first wife - he and she were probably of Stonington, Connecticut - and he married, 2nd, Betsy (Whiting) Searle of Granville. She whose husband Alfred went to the Gold Rush in California and died on the way. Benjamin Clark, Jr. married Mary Winchell of Granville and had 11 children. He lived on the homestead and they later move to Windsor, Connecticut. Today only two remain. As long as they were able, several of them always attended the Granville chicken pie suppers. They and my mother were life-long friends. Further up the brook Isaac Hall had a mill. I know little about him. He was there in 1870 but in 1894 the map shows only "Mrs. Hall". All these homes and all gone now were in the town of Granville. Now back to track and follow the road almost opposite the one from West Granville village that went down the valley some distance and connected with the now "drowned" road connecting East and West Hartland Villages. Near the beginning of the road was, and I remember it, the old Newgate Coon �Club. It had formerly been the Red Lion Inn, built about 1796. Stanley Ransom, in his history of Hartland, says it was moved a little later to Stockbridge where it still is , and by 1911 the Coon Club came into existence. It was a "going" concern for a long time. Coon hunting was a nighttime operation and pretty popular years back. On any fall night the mountains round about would resound with the baying of coon hounds hot on the chase. I know I won't get the houses in order but in this area was probably born the noted architect Asber Benjamin. Below on the left was the home of Fred and Addie Stevens where we visited sometimes. I can still spot the locale by a small island, formerly a little hill in their meadow. A daughter, Pearl, married Andrew Duris, Sr. of West Granville and now lives in Florida. Clifford and Alfred Gables lived below on the right. Their sister Alice married Henry Miller who was raised where the Berry Patch is now on top of Ore Hill. In earlier days Henry had taken my mother to a party at the Magrannis place- later Lester Sattler's home on the State Forest Road. They were in a horse drawn conveyance and going down Magrannis Hill on the way home some vital part of the rig broke. The wagon hit the horse in the rear end and they had a short but wild ride! I imagine that was the last of Ma's dates with Henry as far as Gram pa Nelson was concerned! Talcott Banning lived in the valley on the left and raised honey bees. Daddy bought several hives of them and used to go down for equipment which Talcott kept on hand. Mother would take May and I in to see Talcott's mother. She and my grandma both had severe strokes in the same week in 1916. Grandma lived for six months, knowing nothing but poor Mrs. Banning lived bed-ridden for many years, though quite alert. Near the end of this road lived Leonard Dickinson who married Laura Welch, daughter of Joseph Welch who ran the West Granville store in my day. He and the Cables raised tobacco. The large Feeley farm was in the vicinity but was mostly, I think, a dairy farm. The Miller Tavern was here too, a large wood colored building, built in 1760 but later in the Miller family for about 150 years. All are gone, including no doubt many I've forgotten, and for which I apologize. There was a cemetery in the south section removed to other places before the "flood" and a town house and two schools, also a Post Office. It was a cozy place if a valley can be called cozy. As a sophomore, in high school in 1929 my biology class had to make a collection of pressed wildflowers. Being a "hick from the sticks" I had an advantage here, also a boyfriend who visited his Cable relatives often. Many flowers grew in the Hollow that did thrive on Grandpa's farm on the hill. I corralled a large collection for which I received an A+ and I still have it but pretty decrepit after 60 years. At the time I suppose I may not have thought so--1rn1. " Those were (really) The Days, My Friends. " Leona A. Clifford �August 1987 Long Ago Days Years ago we felt spring had finally arrived when the first robins came. they usually arrived in small flocks then and the day they showed up was a joyous one. Winter was over! The neighbors vied with each other to report the first ones. we wait for them now too but they seem to come in "dribbles and drabbles"- one or two at a time. I can't remember when I've seen a flock! This year a pair spied an old beaten up remnant of a nest just outside our kitchen window in the dogwood tree. some years back a succession of them had tried nesting there but were usually devastated by the cats, much to my mother's disgust. Finally it was given up for some years. Now this year's pair speedily took over and worked diligently for quite a few days. then they decided to do things up right. when the job was almost done, one of them brought quite a piece of what seemed to be a child's blue balloon and hung it on one side of the nest. A short time later one brought what seemed to be a long piece of 1/4 inch white baby ribbon. They wound it in and around and about anchoring it to a small limb and letting a six inch piece hanging down to flutter in the wind, next a common piece of twine was added to the display. When it all suited them the mother laid her eggs and hatched three little homely, blind, scrawny, bald and bare creatures whose mouths were perpetually open begging for food. In not time at all they had pranced about their nest, oiled and preened their feathers and flown away. I saw one, a day or so later, chasing after his mother in the shrubbery at the edge of the lawn while she hurried to find choice morsels to feed him. we hated to see them go to face the dangers in their world but---- voila! some days later back came "Mom and dad" and began all over. Not much refurbishing had to be done and soon Mom was snuggling down and getting back in the egg laying business. Three more babies arrived in due time and again the parents were out straight keeping them well fed. Having been "laid up" for some time, it has been fun watching the growth and antics of all six. The mother went through some strange (to me) behavior, too. She sat on the edge of the nest and made lots of strange sounds to her eggs and she would sit on them and sing real robing songs to the unborn. they say people should sing and play music to their unborn son babies. did she know that? Maybe she is the reincarnation of a loving, human parent. what a delight it would be to come back as either of these dedicated and beautiful birds. we hope to see them for many more seasons. Yesterday, the last babe flew away. six new robins are now around the neighborhood. �P.S. Yesterday, in a fallen nest which the man who mows our lawn found and had placed at the edge of May's little pool, sat a beautiful green frog. He is still there this morning. Maybe he is the reincarnation of a robin! GLORIA LEITCH: In May, at Bonita, Calif. Gloria Leitch died. She was a direct descendant of West Granville's first ordained minister, Aaron Jordan Booge. she was a lovely lady who visited me last fall. We went to the cemetary where one of Aaron's sons is buried, and to the church which Rudy thoughtfully opened and heated for us. she was really thrilled. We spent some time visiting with Helena Duris who insisted on serving tea. I know Gloria was thrilled with the town and the friendliness shown her. She passed away after a long battle with cancer, at what was to me, a young age. Her husband, Jack, was kind enough to call me and I appreciated it. It hurt though for she was, in that one day, a new friend whom I hoped to see again some day. Leona A. Clifford �January 1988 Long Ago Days In 1740, one David Rose came from Durham, Ct. to what is now West Granville, and built the first house there on his 100 acre "settling lot". It was in what we used to call "Elm-Tree Lot" a very large elm then standing sentinel over the shole area at the corner of now Rte. 57 and South Lane #2. As a child I could still see a ridge around a small square spot that I was told many times, marked all that was left of that original home. In that home I expect David and his wife Elizabeth Fowler King, with there family of several children, lived the very spartan lives of those times like the rest of the twenty six families that soon followed him from Durham. One story tells how the family dared not have a light burning one night when a new baby arrived for fear Indians. However it is pretty certain Granville had no Indian troubles. It was mostly if anything, a hunting ground for them. Still the house was built mostly of stone as fortification. To that home in 1754 David Rose brought a little black boy, Lemuel Haynes. He was the son of a white servant girl in the Haynes home in West Hartford and an unknown black man. He was given the Haynes name. He became as one of the family, was educated by them as best possible and later studied with Dr. Timothy M. Cooley, pastor of Granville Center Church. He became the first to preach in the West (or middle Granville) Church---the first black minister to a white congregation in America and the first black to receive a college degree, from the college at Middlebury Vermont As one of the Rose family he wrote of the great sorrow there when little Lucy Rose died in her 4th year and their grief at having to leave her in "that dark lonesome place". She is buried in the old first cemetery in town in Granville Center and was the first to be laid there. As in most of the other five cemeteries in our town a child would be the first occupant. Lemuel was also to see the woman who was as a mother to him be buried by the side of Lucy in 1775 age 70. This cemetery has not been used for many years and the old stones are crumbling, but it holds the remains of many of our earliest settlers. David Rose outlived his spouse for twenty years. A second wife died in Suffield,Ct. in 1809. At his death in 1795 the West Granville cemetery having been opened, again for a child Calvin Coe three year old son of Capt. Aaron and Mary Coe David was buried there. His stone is m �poor shape and is on the west of the driveway in the old part. His son Robinsons, Coes and Baldwins are there too. One of them Ezra Baldwin gave an acre for this graveyard in 1787. Additions have been made over the years. Ezra lived where Henry Miller does now. Two hundred and forty eight years later a new house is standing in the elm tree lot. I know not to whom it belongs. I have been out now. The new house stands very near to the original first home site it and the majestic elm both having disappeared. It is in a very scenic spot and I wish the new residents a very happy life there. It will be I am positive an easier and pleasanter one than that of David Eliza Beth or of any of those hardy early settlers who first braved the hills of Western Mass so long ago! Leona A. Clifford �February 1988 Long Ago Days The old timers often remarked, when caught in the deep freeze we have just now experienced, "When the days begin to lengthen then the cold begins to strengthen." Very often it does and, if you can manage to live through it, then came the " January thaw". Well, I for one, can hardly wait for that! I began to think about winter time in my grammar school days and how we coped, compared to now. How differed! We walked, roughly three quarters of a mile, to Ore Hill school and back at night--- 9 am to 4pm--. It was apt to be cold at 9 and getting darkish at 4. Of course we had days when the roads were too drifted and impossible and we reveled in being home. There were no working mothers then, and ours were always home. We would be roused from our nice cozy feather beds and hustle down to get dressed by the living room stove which daddy had coaxed back from its bed of coals to a nice living blaze. We crawled into our long part wool, union suits (How I hated that for wool and I don't get along well, and they kept me scratching and bawling!) until its a wonder the teacher didn't think I was infested with "creepers"! Then on went long black stockings and were fastened to our garter equipped ferris waists. With some stretching and pulling, as they passed over the ends of the long john legs, it left a knobby lump for all the world to see. After those, we donned bloomers. At one time I remember black satin ones. Then came a petticoat. Many times these were trimmed with mamas hand crocheted lace. Last of all a heavy dress of skirt and sweater was added. Boy, we were ready for most anything winter had to offer. (given our outer apparel which was coming up.) After breakfast, which was not, as a current T.V. ad proclaims: "Muslix, what breakfast was meant to be", we had real breakfasts, hearty ones, pancakes, bacon, ham and sausage from late fall butchering in winter and in summer salt codfish of mackerel or dried beef in milk and gravy with boiled potatoes and biscuits and muffins. I remember very little cereal except oatmeal and corn meal mush, and that too often. Those other things were that what stoked the fires for our up- coming trip to Ore Hill. We have a picture daddy took of my sister and I standing in the door yard, holding our round tin buckets in which was a good substantial lunch, ready for "take off'. We are wearing heavy coats, toboggans, (ski hats now), each has a long, heavy scarf wrapped securely about our necks and on our legs are heavy woolen pacs and real rubber boots that laced and came above our ankles. It almost looked as if we should be unable to move under such a load, but we made it and so did the rest of our schoolmates, dressed likewise. When �I see how the school children dress today, most of them give me goose pimples. Sometimes I have occasion to pick up one or two grandchildren after school. Out they come,--- no hats, no heavy coats or possible a thin one, no boots or gloves . Underneath, no nice winter underwear. On their_ feet sneakers, (pardon that expression, today they have sophisticated ? names, Reeboks, etc) The laces are untied and flopping and these darlings of my heart will declare they are as warm as toast! They may want a car window open ! Where is the old fashioned double pneumonia? Well, at least they have what we didn't---a warm school bus for both trips, to and fro! The aunt with who I lived in my high school years some sixty years ago told of a friend of hers, probably some forty years before that, who setting her wedding date for when it was winter weather, shed her union suit for fancy underwear, got married in it and died a few days later of "quick LB." Lord, have mercy! It was meant to scare me and it did. Old timers still believed in the old saying, "Ne'er cast a clout till May be out". I guess that stayed in my mind too. I am cold earlier in the fall and later in the spring than lots of folks I know. My thermal underwear sure feels good in winter-- all four months of it or longer. In the meantime, when as the only person for miles around to wear an undershirt kids think I'm strange, I can only say I'm old fashioned! Leona A. Clifford �March 1988 Long ago days Now that I've been one for twenty years, there is nothing like being a grandmother!---with loving grandchildren! I think I missed out in my lifetime by not knowing my own grandmothers. Grandma Harriet Aldrich died at Grafton, Vt. in 1899, of heart disease at age 75. All I have of her is a picture of a rather sad faced woman, probably in her sixties. She had lived a sad life, poor, and with many troubles. She was a widow for 18 years, living with my father who was the youngest of her eight children. I like to think that she was like daddy which would have made her a super person. She was born in Nelson, N.H. in 1824, descended from a long line of Richardson, Bracketts and others, many going back to Americas earliest days. There is in, what was Braintee, now Quincy, Ma. , a communion set given to the church there by first settler, Richard Brackett and wife Alice Blower. I would dearly love to see it. Grandma Francena Nelson I remember a little, especially once when I was having a snit fit because my parents were taking my sister, May, to Dr. Whites in Granville for some problem and weren't planning to take me. I so wanted to go along for the buggy ride! Grandma gathered me up in her arms, sat me on her lap in the old corner chair by the living room stove and said if I'd be a good girl she would make me popcorn and a "birdies nest", that being and apple cut crosswise, cored and sprinkled with a bit of salt. As I remember the bribe worked. I have her picture too, several in fact. IN one, she is holding me in her lap, dressed in my best white dress, and looking down at me. I can feel the pride in that look! I've been there four times myself. There isn't anything I wouldn't do for all four of mine if it were humanly possible. Grandma Nelson died at West Granville in 1916. She was born in Harvard, Ma. in 1841, a descendant of the Park and Reed families of that place. They were stone cutters and stone masons. Her grandfather, Israel Reed, "well known master mason of Worcester county" was well known in his day, built the abutments to the old toll bridge at Springfield and the base to the monument for fallen soldiers of 1775 on the green at Lexington, MA plus much more. He died of small pox fairly young and has hastily buried in a field near his home but today he rests in the Harvard graveyard. Grandma's father, Robert Reed, died young and his sister, Anna Barlow, brought her to Granville, age 5. Later on she married his younger brother, Major, my grandfather. The Nelson's during those years ran the tavern on Granville Hill, now gone. She too had many trials and tribulations in her life but I know she was the kind of grandma I would have adored! Now I have a handsome 20 year old grandson from whom I lately �received one of the most beautiful "love letters" of my life, and three beautiful granddaughters whose every wish is my command in so far as I am capable of granting them. They are among the great blessings of my life of seventy five years. I have been privileged to see them grow up. Somehow now though the thoughts of great grandchildren doesn't thrill me. I am contented with what I have. Still it would be nice to hold tiny new baby in my arms again. P.S. I am back from my 6th operation at Mercy Hospital in Springfield for my cancer and the end is not in sight. I hope however that I will be able to write for the Caller. I have Bogged down on finishing my trip through West Granville. I hope to continue it---lots of interesting stories there! Leona A. Clifford �November 1988 Long Ago Days Like Martin Luther King Jr., I stood on a mountaintop (in West Glover, Vermont) Last weekend and a beautiful sight it was. I did not see the promised land but it couldn't be a lovelier sight. The White Mts. of New Hampshire lay to the east, Mt. Stowe to the west, Jay Peak to the north and my friends herd of 52 beautiful Holstein cows all standing around their fall pasture. I hated to leave, but Granville and my old friends there are my "first love". I just thank God, that so far with my brand new chauffeur, I could visit up there. The story goes that it was first planned to erect the Statue of Liberty on Glover's highest peak. It would have been a magnificent, peaceful, and outstanding sight, but it serves better being where it has been able to welcome so many to their "Promised Land" as they came into New York harbor. Now that I am back to feeling more like myself, I hope to resume writing a few more stories for this paper, at least to cover West Granville. Wish me luck even thought I feel, at this point that I've had more than my share. Leona A. Clifford �January 1989 Long Ago Days After a long "vacation" from getting around town very much, it has been a blow to me to see so many places --- land, houses, etc.-going up for sale in every part of dear old Granville! In the Long Ago Days, we lived as had generations before us, on the old farm in West Granville. As children, at least, it never entered our heads that all of it could change and "strangers" be living in "our" house! The same went for many of our neighbors, near and far, for Beech Hill, Granville Hill, and the so called Jockey Corners. (I'd like to know where they ever came up with that one). Year after year the same people lived in the same homes and it seemed that only death or disaster made changes in the status quo. In the first circumstance only one person was gone and the rest generally intended to stay put. In the second, fire was probably most often to blame for rebuilding might occur or another place come up for sale but the people hung in there! Three generations under the family roof tree was certainly not unusual, but more often the "status quo". A lot of this, of course, was due to the fact that hospitals and nursing homes were not around corralling up the old, sick or infirm family members; and many, many times these two and possibly three generations living together, cared for each other until the end. No doubt more could be done for the comfort of the ones institutionalized, but the old lady or old gentleman, very likely hugging his chimney corner or lying in a senile cradle by the fireplace, rocked by children and grandchildren, in any lucid moments, had the satisfaction of knowing he or she was in their own home and seeing the dear and familiar faces they were used to seeing. I believe there was a lot of comfort in that. Well, times change and not always for the better. I guess the biggest surprise to me amongst the big changes going on, was to see a "For Sale" sign on the lawn of the Curtiss Tavern in West Granville. This old home or at least the property it stands on was deeded by John Curtiss of Durham, CT. to Aaron Curtiss October 1, 1773. He deeded to sons Levi and Nathan, joiners, December 16, 1797, and Nathan quit claimed to Levi September 21, 1807, "all my land in Middle Parish". If right, this was the Tavern's beginning. I miss going to the Registry, and having Bill Heino and Helena Duris presently out of reach, so if I make errors, no doubt George and Rudy will correct me. A Levi Curtiss, merchant's clerk, age 16, died of spotted fever in 1812 during the devastating epidemic that swept New England at that time. A while back I read that a Dartmouth College professor called the illness spinal meningitis. Men rose from their beds feeling fine in the A.M. and were dead by night. Whatever it was, Granville lost 15 people to it in almost no time. Another Levi Curtiss died, age 63, in 1830. The record says "life wasted by fits". They were no doubt part of the Durham, CT family who came here. If I had another lifetime, I could really place all of these early comers, but at present. I have no idea of how much of the lifetime I have will last. Oh, well, next month I will finish what I know or can find out about this beautiful old home. In the meantime, A Happy and Healthy New Year to each and every one of you. Leona A. Clifford �I am ashamed to write this note, but after thinking I had written a fairly good thank you to family and friends for all the kindnesses shown me over the past two years, I never mentioned my beloved daughter-in-law, Donna Clifford. Six times this girl, with almost more to do than for her family than she ought to, insisted on taking me, once at 5:30 A.M. ( !), to Mercy Hospital for my six operations that I have had so far, and standing by until they were over so she could nail my doctor to see what was what. After one of them, when some trouble developed, she also took me to her home and turned me over to the T.L.C. of my darling Julie, who could be a super nurse(hint, hint). I was waited on hand and foot until things died down and I came home. No words can ever adequately thank her or the family. She is a shining light in my now-a-days precarious existence. I am a "very luck old lady" as my dear old friend, Dora Barry would tell me every time I went to visit her, to have them and my sister around to see me through my "final chapter". No words will do but thank all of you from the bottom of my heart!!! Leona A. Clifford �HARRIET (SHEETS) JULIAN Died in Westfield, Ma. November 24, Harriet (Sheets) Julian, 87, after a long illness. She was born in West Granville, Ma. the daughter of Charles and Nelsie (Hunt) Sheets and was the sister of the late Albert Sheets. She was a member of the 1st Cong. Church in Westfield and the Apremont Veterans of Foreign Wars Post 1847 Auxiliary. Her husband, Frank Julian, died some years age, but she is survived by a son, Frank Julian Jr. and daughter Margaret, wife of Arthur Moore of North West Rd. of Westfield with whom she lived. For many years her family lived north of Avery Bates--house now gone--- and were among the real old time neighbors of those days. When I left home for high school in East Hartford, Ct. in 1927, lonesome, scared and green as grass, not knowing a soul, I was overjoyed when later the Julians moved there. I visited them often and how great to see and be with those dear familiar faces from "home". It sure eased the pain of my being a "stranger" in a "strange Land"! The last time I visited Harriet at Noble Hospital, she was heavily sedated but she roused to tell me she hoped she'd be around when I came again. It was not to be, for three days later she was gone, leaving another of many "vacant" spots occurring in my life more and more now a days. At least I have many pleasant memories of all of that family as I was growing up. I wish I could write a book!! Leona A. Clifford �February 1989 Long Ago Days RUDY HENDRIC 1912-1988 On Christmas Day, after a long illness, Rudy passed away at Noble Hospital, Westfield, MA He was 76 years old. It brought to mind that most of my husbands relatives, especially the Cliffords and Morris's, "come over" from County Kerry, Ireland, believed that those who die on Christmas Day or Easter Sunday go straight to heaven. No waiting around in Purgatory, (a word I never had heard before I met them.) a place for expiating sins before moving on to eternal bliss. They were the chosen children of God! I am sure Rudy fitted that category. He lived at the Curtiss Tavern some fifty years , from the time that Carleton Stafford and he came and they beautifully restored it. Carleton moved on to Florida and then to the Ford Museum in Dearborn, Michigan, where he died some time ago. He was from "Who's who in America" could have stated many other instances. Rudy was one who did not talk much about his accomplishments. He as a kind, friendly, quite, amiable and soft spoken man, - as George told my sister a "beautiful person" - we agree. The West Granville Church, beautifully decorated for the annual Christmas service, was left that way for the funeral. (One of the nicest funeral services I ever attended). How many weddings, funerals, memorials and other important events in the lives of Granville people had decorations by George and Rudy? Many, they gave it their all. No famous place has ever got the attention given by two to our "little old church in the vale". Who can forget the series of Ethnic suppers put on by this pair? Italian, German, and others, each with an appropriate glass of wine, and, age beautiful decorations. I think George did a lot of the cooking for these too--a man of many talents! I am sure that the memories of all that those two did for Granville's populace will never be forgotten or reported. You have to gratitude of everyone including me. This is my native town and and church where I was baptised in 1912. Now the house is for sale and things will never be the same. It li and will be George and Rudy's place. It is a fine asset to our beautiful little village. Our fondest prayer now is, as it goes into new hands, that we don't lose you, George! Stick around! We need you. Our hearts go out to you. We extend our deepest sympathy, knowing, especially us older ones, a little bit of your feelings. You also have our everlasting love. May the lord Bless and keep You. �May he make his face to shine upon you and be Gracious unto you, May he lift up the light of his countenance upon you and give you Amen Peace! Leona A. Clifford ***** This is my swan song as far as "Long Ago Days" is concerned. I can no longer continue it - at least not on a regular basis. Thanks for everything in past years. �April 1989 Long Ago Days 1897-Franklin E. Waugh-1989 Tolland's oldest citizen, Frank Waugh, died Feb. 2, 1989 at Noble Hospital m Westfield after a period of ill health, although on his birthday, last April, he was able to renew his drivers license for four years, and until a stroke last fall was doing about as ever. He was 91 years old. He was a dedicated member of Granville Senior Citizens and, now that he is gone, they have lost a most loyal and helpful member who will be missed very much. He was a veteran of World War I, a former selectman of Tolland, a fortyfour year continuous member of Tollands board of assessors, for some time m charge of the towns cemeteries and a member of the Fire Department. He and his wife, the late Nellie Chandler, raised a family of five childeren. Two, Robert Crockett and Marion Barnes pre-deceased him. The others are Charles Waugh of Tolland, Eleanor Waugh Westfield, and Pearl Messenger of Tolland, who with her husband Ronald Messenger own the Twin Brooks Camp Grounds there and have a considerable maple sugar business. He also leaves an older sister, Marion Reilly of Westfield. I had known Frank since I worked one fall at the Tunxis Club in Tolland in 1931. He was a quiet, friendly man and knew a lot about the town and towns people, having lived there some sixty-six years. I got a real Cooks Tour of the towns old homes and home sites as well as lots of information on the residents of times past. This was most interesting to me as Tolland was once part of Granville and my grandparents, Major and Franceca Nelson, lived some years on the Marshall and Hardy place and all their children except my mother were born there. Frank was a steady hard worker. He worked many years for the O'Connor Lumber Company in Westfield and he told me he was never late or absent, quite a record considering the daily trip in all kinds of weather down out of those hills! On retirement, as a side line, he rushed and seated chairs, built picnic tables and benches and repaired small engines. He just couldn't bear to be idle. He was an avid fisherman and hunter. Until about three years ago, he told me he never had a deer season pass empty handed. He was the old fashioned kind of neighbor always willing to be helpful when there was a need of any kind. I know Tolland has had a big loss and so have I. Since my own illness of �May he make his face to shine upon you and be Gracious unto you, May he lift up the light of his countenance upon you and give you Peace! Amen Leona A. Clifford ***** This is my swan song as far as "Long Ago Days" is concerned. I can no longer continue it - at least not on a regular basis. Thanks for everything in past years. �April 1989 Long Ago Days 1897-Franklin E. Waugh-1989 Tolland's oldest citizen, Frank Waugh, died Feb. 2, 1989 at Noble Hospital rn Westfield after a period of ill health, although on his birthday, last April, he was able to renew his drivers license for four years, and until a stroke last fall was doing about as ever. He was 91 years old. He was a dedicated member of Granville Senior Citizens and, now that he is gone, they have lost a most loyal and helpful member who will be missed very much. He was a veteran of World War I, a former selectman of Tolland, a fortyfour year continuous member of Tollands board of assessors, for some time m charge of the towns cemeteries and a member of the Fire Department. He and his wife, the late Nellie Chandler, raised a family of five childeren. Two, Robert Crockett and Marion Barnes pre-deceased him. The others are Charles Waugh of Tolland, Eleanor Waugh Westfield, and Pearl Messenger of Tolland, who with her husband Ronald Messenger own the Twin Brooks Camp Grounds there and have a considerable maple sugar business. He also leaves an older sister, Marion Reilly of Westfield. I had known Frank since I worked one fall at the Tunxis Club in Tolland in 1931. He was a quiet, friendly man and knew a lot about the town and towns people, having lived there some sixty-six years. I got a real Cooks Tour of the towns old homes and home sites as well as lots of information on the residents of times past. This was most interesting to me as Tolland was once part of Granville and my grandparents, Major and Franceca Nelson, lived some years on the Marshall and Hardy place and all their children except my mother were born there. Frank was a steady hard worker. He worked many years for the O'Connor Lumber Company in Westfield and he told me he was never late or absent, quite a record considering the daily trip in all kinds of weather down out of those hills! On retirement, as a side line, he rushed and seated chairs, built picnic tables and benches and repaired small engines. He just couldn't bear to be idle. He was an avid fisherman and hunter. Until about three years ago, he told me he never had a deer season pass empty handed. He was the old fashioned kind of neighbor always willing to be helpful when there was a need of any kind. I know Tolland has had a big loss and so have I. Since my own illness of �the past two years, he always stopped in once or twice a week to see how I was getting along. Before that happened, we played cards at Senior Citizens, the Tolland card parties, and with friends. We went to church suppers or out for pizza. I know my life will never be quite the same again, but I am sure he has found eternal rest, he so well deserved, in that heaven to which God has called him. Leona A. Clifford �May 1989 Long Ago Days In Memoriam 1889 Laura (Welch) Dickinson 1989 On April 8th, Laura Dickinson died in a Suffield, Connecticut nursing home at the grand old age of 100! When I was a little girl, she was a pretty young lady still living at home, unmarried and 23 years older than me. As a baby, the last of the three daughters of Joseph and Laura Miner Welch who owned the West Granville Store and lived directly across the street in what is now the Curtis Tavern, she was allowed, so I've been told, to wait until she was old enough to pick her own first name. When that time arrived, she chose Laura, the name of her mother who was also very pretty and always smiling. As I remember, it was a good choice for she was a great deal like her mother in looks and temperament. Until the choice was made, she had been called "Babe" and this name stuck, at least as long as she lived in West Granville. On December 1, 1920, she married Leonard M. Dickinson of Hartland Hollow and they lived on his farm until the Hartford Water Company bought out all the homes in that valley to make room for the Barkhampsted Reservoir. At that time, they removed to Suffield, Connecticut. They lived towards the upper end of the main street and I believe he raised much tobacco. Their home was a squarish, large distinctive looking house where they spent many years. Her husband predeceased her as did her two sisters, Mary Gardner of Westfield and Sadie Warner of Springfield and her only brother Joseph Welch, Jr. of West Granville - one of the penalties(?) of living to be 100 years old! She had no children but leaves several nieces and nephews, one of who is Steve Welch of Westfield that most folks remember. He was in school with me but younger. Laura was buried beside her husband in the Center Cemetery in East Hartland, Connecticut, April 10th. On this Memorial Day, Granville will be remembering a great many more old and young friends and relatives than usual. It is one of the great sadnesses of living to an old age ourselves. Keeping them all in our hearts and minds and prayers is, in a way, giving them "eternal life." We miss them, but I feel assured there will be a great reunion some day when we too can lay down life's burdens---PEACE at least. Leona A. Clifford �June 1989 Long Ago Days My "Long Ago Days' are rapidly being brought up to "Right Now Days" and it's mighty unsettling to replace what few more stories I might be able to get in, off and on, with one obituary after another. A few days ago, I received word of the death of Pearl Phelon in Vineland New Jersey where he had been in the care of his son and daughter in law, Mr. And Mrs. Philip Phelon. He had reached the ripe old age of 92, and I had known him and all of his family as long as I can remember. He was a direct descendant of one of the earliest settlers - Dan Robinson -. Not many families can lay claim to over two hundred years of remaining in the same town. Most descendants of those early pioneers move on to other places all over America as I've found out by my mail from quite a few of their descendants. I've had very interesting conversations with some of them, once in a while in person, more often by mail. As children, May and I often visited in the old Phelon home on Granville hill. Pearls sister Susan, and mother, Sarah (Robinson) Phelon boarded state children with whom we would be invited to play. Sue was a graduate of a hospital in Augusta, Maine, (where her sister, Lucy had married a Mr. North a direct descendant of one of Augusta's founders-a marvelous woman with a fantastic since of humor.) and it was to her that my parents always gave the credit for saving my sisters life after she suffered first from whooping cough and immediately following that from pneumonia-a desperately sick child when Sue first arrived on the scene. Good old Dr. White, whom all depended on day and night had informed us on one of his trips that she wouldn't last the night! Well with Sue's expert care, she fooled him! Pearl was a retired apple grower, a member of the Board of Directors of Mass. Food Growers Association. He was a former selectmen, a former choir director and a member of the Board of the Congregationalist Church in Granville. He played coronet with the first Infantry Band in Mass. In his last years, he attended our Senior Citizens Tuesday "get-togethers". His diet restricted him from our lunches, but he love to play "set back" and was an excellent player! Because I passed his home on my way to the lunch, etc. I picked him up and later delivered him back to his home. We had many enjoyable talks as he remembered many interesting stories of people and events. Some were sad and some were funny, but I loved hearing him tell them all. I enjoyed talking with his wife, Ruth too, and we spent a wonderful afternoon, sitting on apple boxes in her attic looking over old photographs of their family, friends and places, many of which she graciously allowed me to copy. When both, due to the infirmities of old age had to give up their home, Ruth to her son John's in Utah and then Pearl to his son Philip's home in New Jersey, our town suffered a great loss whether they realized it our not. Our 'old folks" are our treasures-irreplaceable! I wish for Gods blessing on them both forever. I loved them both and MISS them! Leona A. Clifford �July 1989 Long ago Days Everyday the paper gives us yet more on the wonerful plans for the rejuvination of the center of Westfield, which now, as long ago and in between, is Granvilles nearest place for what we call city services. (I belive it is an "impossible dream") Looking back in Grandma Nelsons scrapbook, I found a plan for Westfield written in 1898 by Riley P. Nelson, my grandfathers oldest brother who went to Brandon Iowa to teach about 1860. He was born m Mundale in 1837 as were most of his twelve siblings, some of whom rest with their parents and grandparents in the "new Mundale cemetery". I thought it quite interesting but no doubt no more workable than the plans now, though much cheaper. Brandon, Iowa Mar. 5 1898 Mr Edi tor: --We were one among many young men who left many years ago the glorious old Bay State, with its many advantages, to seek a home and a broader field of action in the west. Through the kindness of friends, we found both, and we find also that our interest in the land and state we left has not dimined; we feel an honorable pride in the state of Massachusetts. Her past record has been indeed glorious, and I do not wish to see her glory dimmed nor her strength in any way diminished. I wish to see her stand in the front ranks anong the states of this nation; in the superior managment of her natural advantages, that Nature has conferred upon her; we wish to see her improve to the utmost limit all the strength that has not yet been developed. And the strength of Massachusetts in the future must depend more and more upon her cheap water power, to help support a dense and thrifty population. Competition is sharp, and how can the state with all its thrifty and intelligent citizens, hope to maintain her place in the future, in wealth and population, unless she has something of an enduring character to build on? She has not an inexhaustible supply of coal and iron, nor the rich and fertile lands of many of the western states to support a dense and thrifty population. In these respects, she can never hope to compete with them; but Massachusetts is rich. She has some of the best water power in the world for manufacturing purposes, and of these the state may well be proud. Power obtained by coal can never hope to successfully with water for cheapness or durability. The state of Massachusetts is �rich also in its inexhaustible beds of the best granite to be found anywhere in the world, and it has the capital and the men that will develop them, and as the country gets older and the business men look more to the best interests of the state and its citizens, the grandest houses, churches, public buildings, and monumental work will be built of polished' and enduring granite. Westfield is rich in this material, and I see west of her in the mountains two tremendous water powers, and granite enough and sand and gravel, when set in motion by this power, to polish enough stone for all the public buildings in the state; work enough to employ thousands of men for hundreds of years. Men are in need of the work now, and when will the business men of Massachusetts take in this rich field of investment that will be more sure and enduring in its character than all the gold fields of Alaska? By building a dam near the old canal feeder, power could be transmitted by electricity to the old "Four Mile house, and a suburb started there that would give more business to your street railway, and also furnished the road with cheap power. The polishing shop should be built near there, and it would give me pleasure to help set them in motion. I hope that you will bring this subject to the attention of the business men of Westfield and oblige. Leona A. Clifford �October 1989 Long Ago Days About 225 years ago several of the Barnes family, descendants of Thomas of New Haven, made their way from Middletown, Connecticut and environs to Bedford, now Granville, Massachusetts. I believe that in one of Dr. Timothy's last addresses to his flock, he took as his theme "Let the work of the Fathers Stand. I have a copy of that address but now I can't place it. Well, the Barnes family have moved to every part of our country with a few still clinging to the Tolland and Granville hills. Marriage has changed many names but the Barnes blood is strong in their veins, and they are one of a few family's in our town who have hung on for so long a time. Dr. Cooley's message is as true now as then, and we now have a SHINING EXAMPLE. On the weekend of August 5th and 6th the Rev. Kingsley and Milly Roberts came back here from Florida, where he is now Pastor of a new church, that has been built for him, to celebrate their golden wedding in the church they were married by Frederick Thompson in 1939. With them were several of their wonderful family of ten children, including Rev. Dr. Joseph Roberts of Hudson Falls, N. Y. and Rev. John Roberts of Peabody, Mass. Kingsley is the oldest son of the late Stephen and Gladys (Barnes) Roberts- (Thomas, Jeremiah, Anson, Curtis, Henry). Milly is the daughter of the late Joseph . Boehm and Antonette Boehm, now of Bonita Springs, Florida. On Saturday a great time was had with a delicious luncheon catered by Joan and Con Clendenin, and visiting with old friends and family members of this couple, including Mrs. Boehm, Lucy Stebbins, and Millie Sattler of Winsted, Connecticut formerly residents here. It was just a great day for me. When this family lived on North Lane #2 in West Granville, I stayed sometimes with the children, went there to get my "hair done", and worked in blueberry season for Uncle Steve. He and Aunt Gladys always seemed like family to me. On Sunday, a beautiful service was conducted by Kingsley, Milly, Joey, and Jackie at ten AM. I can tell you the whole thing was just an occasion as has never happened, to my knowledge, in the old West Granville Church, where the first Barnes worshiped, before or ever will again I imagine. It was a red letter day and I felt as proud of them and the others as if they were mine. Kingsley and Milly sang a touching duet and Joey's daughter, Amy, played a nice piano selection during the collection which was presented to the church. These days were enjoyed by everyone to the fullest, but while my own heart was running over with joy, some sadness crept in for I probably shall not see them altogether again. It was a day to be entered in the church records with a great deal of pride! Leona A. Cliffore �November 1989 Long Ago Days It's amazing how a long life seems to shorten time! It was like few weeks ago that I attended a beautiful golden wedding ceremony in the old West Granville Church for Gilbert Earl and Olive ( Bull) Miller! Children and grandchildren, also a few great-grandchildren. It was a lovely party and I was pleased to be able to go for I went to school when young with Earl at Ore Hill School. He is a direct descendant of the early Robinsons from Durham, Connecticut, among Granville's first settlers in the Beach Hill area. Captain Dan Robinson living in the area of the Ripley farm. He was a veteran of the revolution and supposed to have been with Ethan Allen when he captured Fort Ticonderoga. He is also a direct descendant of General William Sheppard, Westfield's Revolutionary War hero, on his mothers side. His line is Captain Dan, Dan Jr. Earl's grandmother. A long line, like the Barnes of my last story still hanging in there in the old home town. Also a long line on his mother, Alice Treat's side! The party was put on by the family's children and very nice. I thoroughly enjoyed meeting as many as I could. I easily lose track of the small fry, but I tried my best and was glad I was invited. I know that Oliver and Earl are proud of the fruit of their sixty years of togetherness, and I am proud to know them too. May they reach the next milestone- their seventyfifth ! Wherever I am then, I'll be there in spirit- wouldn't miss it. A rather sad note crept in when a few days later, Eva (Miller) Voight lost her son-in-law due to a terrible automobile accident. I extend my sympathy to all (for what it is worth.) Then too, I hear Olive is a patient in Noble Hospital's I.C.U. Certainly hope that doesn't last. I haven't heard that she is out, but I get news from out there pretty slowly. Anyway, my best to all of them in their troubles. I am sorry! Leona A. Clifford �Long Ago Days (January 1990) Note from C. C. Editors: The following article of "Long Ago Days" by Leona Clifford was written just before she entered the hospital on December 23rd. where she passed away early in January. She, as well as he many contributions to the C. C. will be sadly missed. Another New year has arrived- clean slate- what will it hold? First of all, lots of parties, and then, lots of morning after, and then back to the old routine. What was this like in the Long Ago Days? From hear, it is hard to know. There were in our country towns no nights spots. There may have been house parties and hay rides. They were fun- everyone packed together in a sled full of hay with a pair of horses outfitted with sleigh bells jogging along. Most times the ride wound up at some neighboring town hall for refreshments, and then off home again, snuggled warm in the sweet scented hay. Quite often there was singing of lots of the old time songs as they "sleighed" along through the night. I'm sure more than one couple plighted their troth on such a Journey. However, I guess for most of us, life went on as usual, unless we engaged in one of the above a activities, we were off to bed early and up early too, as our farm animals, cows, chickens and Old Pet, our first horse that I remember, knew it was just another day to be fed, watered and cared for. After some years, radio came in and it was thrilling to have so many nice (in those days!) shows to listen to listen to, and a majority wouldn't miss Guy Lombardo and his Royal Canadians swinging out "Old Lang Syne" ! The radio was nice and gave us a look at the outside world. (We tried to tell Grandpa Nelson that, But he wouldn't have any part of it and listened in only once or twice under duress). Now, as it has led to TV and Cable, we are assailed by so much not fit to waste time on. Besides, there is too much guesswork on the part of reporters, looking for sensational news. Lately a poll was taken as to the culpability of a great many of the TV shows on war, crime, pornographyone bad thing after another, and repeating so often. You'd think they could come up with something new and interesting, if their minds hadn't got channeled into a rut! We had a chance to vote by phone for or against today's programming, and I for one, couldn't wait to dial 1-800-400-0000 "No"! One can write and I will, for a report on the out comes, with fear and trembling, the whole business of TV entertainment has gotten out of hand. Still, I wish for all of you a healthy, happy and prosperous New Year with many more to come- with lots of good things and very few bad ones. Leona A.Clifford �ACKNOWLEDGMENTS When Leona Aldrich Clifford passed on in 1990, her Country Caller articles were compiled by Ralph Hiers and reprinted in book form. All these copies were sold to benefit the Granville Library Club. In April of 2000, the Granville Historical Society invited Leona's granddaughter, Darcy Clifford Cooley to talk about her Grandmother at one of their series on the history of Granville. The talk was so well received that the Society asked Teddi Daley's 6th and 7th grade media classes at the Granville Village School to retype the articles for republication. Chris Teter, Joan Clendenin, and Tiffany Blakesley also assisted with the typing and the Granville Historical Society members assisted with the proofreading and publishing. �� Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Documents, Articles, Other Printed Material Description An account of the resource Documents relating to Granville history. To view a larger version of any document, click on that document, then click the image thumbnail on the document's page. You will then see a full-size image including a "zoom" function which will make reading text easier. If you have old Granville documents to add please contact the library. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource "Long Ago Days" (PART 4 of 4) by Leona A. Clifford (1912-1990), Originally Published in The Granville Country Caller Description An account of the resource "Long Ago Days" by Leona A. Clifford (1912-1990), Originally published in The Granville Country Caller between January 1980 and January 1990. When Leona Aldrich Clifford passed on in 1990, her Country Caller articles were compiled by Ralph Hiers and reprinted in book form. All these copies were sold to benefit the Granville Library Club. In April of 2000, the Granville Historical Society invited Leona's granddaughter, Darcy Clifford Cooley to talk about her Grandmother at one of their series on the history of Granville. The talk was so well received that the Society asked Teddi Daley's 6th and 7th grade media classes at the Granville Middle School to retype the articles for republication. Chris Teter, Joan Clendenin, and Tiffany Blakesley also assisted with the typing and the Granville Historical Society members assisted with the proofreading and publishing. Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource Published 1980-1990 and 2000 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Granville Library Club, the Granville Historical Society, and the Clifford family. May not be reproduced without permission. Granville Leona Clifford Long Ago Days Massachusetts West Granville https://d1y502jg6fpugt.cloudfront.net/34234/archive/files/631c0fbd0eec1ca67161717ea53fa79c.m4a?Expires=1776902400&Signature=NAr0iriCvAanHDLx0B6du%7EwUUXHkqEoyYlHAuA9H9O7K8ck9ilxAxVP1rHlY%7EW%7E8HSyq654MD%7EmyahWdUsGEwLulWkCQbxcZJMmnspQBmteIriHQdaD%7Emvs2SvL%7EupoCofxp54ZdGzey3Zv4bZ93-sZ6A0AxWdEbV96DExVytSiXP-njmwTYZDtOHPxrWPDPw3GBYOxj2ZoVJyop5A4cRmV3iIPOBF1Z5vdnxiL7FhMG98YTOE2PcnBjSv7KidXfT6Ef5VrCuiCHTrdOH2G9igGHMKxg0y6cJABVhe0JmILLJXSGkvi7xzIQatfppGRKWJu3zp1aif0PftYB7Q7clg__&Key-Pair-Id=K6UGZS9ZTDSZM ea3dc7b38dcd858fe2555fcfb6118bea Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Oral History Recordings Description An account of the resource Recordings of Granville residents past and present, talking about life in Granville. Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource Various Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Granville Public Library Historical Room and the <a href="http://www.ncchp.org">Noble &amp; Cooley Center for Historic Preservation</a> Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Clifford, Leona Ruth (Aldrich): Granville Oral History, April 1976 Description An account of the resource An audio recording of Leona Ruth (Aldrich) Clifford (1912-1990). Recorded April 1, 1976. Leona Clifford was the daughter of George Aldrich and Ruth (Nelson) Aldrich. George Aldrich was an amateur photographer who came to Granville in 1909 and took many of the photos in this collection, as well as many of the images used for Granville postcards. The recording was made by Doug Roberts. Also present: Joey Perella, Dorrie Demaris, Jill Abel, Ruth McGorty and Lauri Schlosser. Recording length: 1 hour. Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 01 April 1976 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Granville Public Library Historical Room 1976 Dorrie Demaris Doug Roberts Granville Jill Abel Joey Perella Lauri Schlosser Leona Aldrich Leona Clifford Massachusetts oral history Ruth McGorty https://d1y502jg6fpugt.cloudfront.net/34234/archive/files/8cd26d6d193db01c5c21a5171eef1e05.jpg?Expires=1776902400&Signature=EJnauF%7EcCSnRT3VOqiQJnq47cjRJ3AQKzg6KQID2RbyFKGOPXu1YUsVngxlSmcpNGejdJWWkviWuoxYkfGYvhooMWzFupWC0LIEiVcGu-OnYrz7EIO1HAsXQzUeMphXoc1-Du8H%7Es6Y-cQNZDKjYRKFhf9kUYIcoQMxvCshwfTBhihjY4utKpC9APVJworN8063tuZxMN-jjPxWALbKW3f8mqFjJaADMNFHwYsP%7EJYOUVWMTKgm04RPR5-NJoKPv-nkWmiSoXpkm3MTX4pTruFWRdjyL6R3bH133SjmiI2sunLvvcH2JnfeXlBBVPrNQX3SnlZ59Q4RQcOgVEVDkKA__&Key-Pair-Id=K6UGZS9ZTDSZM 072ad501e65f323b55ea512f806f3d42 https://d1y502jg6fpugt.cloudfront.net/34234/archive/files/0e21028ce7fe4af8fb3af7652fb86caf.jpg?Expires=1776902400&Signature=DXxibZ6R1tYOAnNWwz3WTjOP1TdHd4uC4U-6E4FsuE28XigRpFb0%7EyXpuk0RyrgSlOKY%7EC1qb5dv%7EPDVViY%7ElsREwcVvZkjIWtXpJA8-prv8hReNCBbZijKjdH2Pz6RL5mbRL9piDGxzXidT44VjeP4jZNweQ5%7EPqqzMymJg40cMlRfcVyTEtQ1kH9K24DeETtjUf16bsKXkgXZlR0FBE4Mnzqt436FAUGtOoGhLJqRlRZ5QnVfnlng6IeVWbzS7r-Uag5eyNTdL0DrLbMqAKneCGOjh7CvfisRtu8HblNseWfI1q39zVrsr%7ER2dJ%7ESVDPqhyo9nBdsGziHmAMPlDA__&Key-Pair-Id=K6UGZS9ZTDSZM 9cfef92eba0cf6a87242305f52f6b3ba Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource People: Portraits and Groups Description An account of the resource A collection of photos for which identifying information is known (ie; who, what, when, where or why). To view a larger version of any photo, click on that photo, then click the image thumbnail on the photo's page. You will then see a full-size image including a "zoom" function to get an even closer look at faces and places. If you have old Granville photos to add please contact the library. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Leona and May Aldrich Leaving For School, 1920's Description An account of the resource Sisters Leona (Aldrich) Clifford and May (Aldrich) Hague leaving for school with their lunch pails. Photo by their father, George Aldrich. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Photo generously donated by Robert Hague. Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Photo: George Aldrich Digital Image: Granville Library Historical Room and NCCHP, 2021 Aldrich Granville Leona Clifford Massachusetts May Hague school