Barnaget Lighthouse - Sunset Cruise

I know I've not posted anything lately. I don't know where my blogging mojo went. Recently, I went on a sunset cruise off Barnegat Light, Long Beach Island, on the "Miss Barnegat Light." I took lots of photos - it was a beautiful evening. The water was warm(ish) at 73F and the breeze kept things cool.

The boat left from the "Viking Fishing Village."

Barnegat Lighthouse, was built by George Meade, a Civil War General for the north. Barnegat Light was commissioned on January 1, 1859.

Later, all the little kids (and me) would get to drive the boat!

But first we motored out of the bay, past the lighthouse.

The other "aid to navigation," the town water tower, probably doesn't aid navigation nearly as much as the lighthouse!

A cooling breeze helped the "blow boat" stay abreast of us.

Ah... relaxation in a New York minute.

Taking the turn into the inlet to head out into the ocean.

We saw a pod of Porpoise and a big school of bait fish being chased by ... something in the deep. I had "Charlie-Problems" and couldn't get a good shot of the porpoise. I have 6 photos of the empty sea where these swimming mammals ... eluded me. The sunset wasn't much to get excited about - but...

...recently, they re-lit the old lighthouse, and seeing the light was a thrill!

Two Little Girls Tired of Bread...

Far Side of Fifty spotted an old newspaper article in my mother's old photo display. The story tells of one of my mother's earliest childhood memories. The article is dated March 3, 1941.

Two Little Girls Tired of Bread After Five-Hour Walk With Loaf

There was no place like home for two little girls in Roxbury [a Boston, Massachusetts suburb] last night.

Walking may be enjoyable and bread may be good to eat, but 5-year-old Evelyn Belyea of 8 Kensington st., and her little pal, Lois Bush [my mother], 3, who lives next door, have learned the sad lesson that there can be too much of two good things.

When her mother sent her for a loaf of bread at 11:30 a.m., yesterday, Evelyn took her fox terrier, "Trixie" and called for Lois. After buying the bread, the youngsters decided that a walk would be "just the thing."

Their little legs carried the kiddies more than two miles, to Forest Hills, before protesting. The the two tired girls started the dreary trek homeward. Long before patrolman Daniel J. Crowe of the Jamaica Plain station sighted them at Egleston sq., about 4:30 p.m., and recognized them as "the missing kids," they had tired of their day-long diet of bread and felt the "prodigal's" proverbial yearning for fatted calf.

I wonder what's become of my mother's friend?

A Visit with Alice Kay and the Scuba Dude

After walking on the Genessee Greenway Trail with my older brother, I headed home the next morning.

On the way home, I stopped in to visit with Alice Kay and her husband Terri. We had a pleasant lunch with super-good homemade egg salad! I had been discussing the history of the area with, and wondering out loud to Alice Kay what might be left of a couple places - notably, the Greenwood Tannery and the Barclay Railroad.

In 1891, the Greenwood Tannery was owned by Thomas Procter and Jonathan Hill. There were 75 acres connected to the plant and 15,000 acres of timberland were owned in Sullivan and Bradford Counties. Contracts were also held for bark on 11,000 acres of land at Foot of Plane.

They had 10,000 cords of bark on hand. The tannery consisted of 458 tanning vats, 13 coolers, each 8 feet deep and 8 foot diameter, 16 leaches that held 16 tons of ground bark each, 100 men worked in the tannery - 50 men worked full time in the woods and 3 (railroad) cars of leather were shipped each week.

Their supply of hides was the African Buffalo hide from Calcutta - they made only sole leather (as in the bottom of shoes) - 12,000 tons of bark used each year - 25,000 hides tanned each year.

Of the tannery, there is very little left - Alice Kay thinks one or two buildings that remain standing in Powell might have been part of the tannery.  Perhaps the most lasting legacy is the name of the town which was changed to Powell in honor of Joseph Powell, a past president of the tannery.


Of the railroad, which served the tannery, nothing remains to be seen in Powell except perhaps the barest of traces.

"Foot of Plane" was a place that the Barclay Railroad loaded cars with coal. The railroad than transported the coal to waiting canal boats in the nearby town of Towanda. The small town of Barclay was located near the top of the hill above "Foot of Plane." Terri offered to take me there to see what we might see. A visit to the Barclay Cemetery was also planned. The map below (click to enbiggen) shows the remote location of the cemetery high above the Schrader Creek at Foot of Plane.

  Foot of Plane was a place where coal was trundled down the steep hillside in small carts from the mines located near the top of the hill.  The town of Barclay was located near the top of the plane. Of Foot of Plane, there exists only one or two building today. There is no sign of the coal tipples (bins) nor the Barclay Railroad.

An old drawing showing the Foot of Plane - Scanned from original copy of Beers 1869 Atlas of Bradford County showing us what it looked like "back in the day."

 

A small creek named Coal Run parallels the gravel "road" (I use that term loosely!) up the hill to Barclay Cemetery.  Where the town of Barclay, founded in May of 1869, stood, nothing appears to remain.  The Great Depression, the plague, and the collapse of the coal market led to the towns demise.

After parking the truck and a short walk into the woods, Terri and I arrived at the gate of Barclay Cemetery - now at last, there were some "remains" to be seen (bad pun, I know).  In the woods at the top of Barclay Mountain, are gravestones intermingled with "new growth trees" and sinkholes from collapsed mine shafts (known as "drifts".)

I found the place spooky - but there was an ethereal air to the place - the shaft of sunlight through the trees on one of the nearly forgotten plots was awe-inspiring to me.

Time and neglect (and perhaps vandalism) has taken its toll on the edifices raised in memory of those that had passed on..

In this case, the heartbreak of William Huggan (1841 in Nova Scotia - 1883) and Elizabeth nee' Rogers Huggan (1847 in French Canada – 1923) whose family had so many that died at very, very tender ages. James - 2 months, George Henry - 7 months, William - 8 months, and Henry 1 year and a month.

A site that list all the graves that remain readable is (here)

I want to thank my gracious host for the wonderful lunch and the trip up the mountain.  As always, it was very nice to see and visit with you!

Those Swedes!

While the major Swedish immigration to the United States did not occur until 1870-1910, when over one million Swedes arrived, settling particularly in Minnesota and other states of the Upper Midwest, the Swedes were in North America long before that.

The first Swedish expedition to North America embarked from the port of Gothenburg, Sweden in late 1637 and the community that gradually expanded along the banks of the Delaware River called itself "Nya Sverige." In English, this means "New Sweden."

If one Swedish colonist had to be chosen to stand for them all, perhaps there is no better candidate than Peter Gunnarsson Rambo. He came to New Sweden from Hisingen, now a suburb of the major seaport of Gothenburg, in 1640. Peter Rambo brought with him "apple seeds in a box." A few years later he married a girl who had come here from Vaasa, Finland. Peter Rambo's apples are still grown locally.

William Penn first stepped ashore in America in 1682 at the Swedish village of Upland—which as the "new owner," he promptly renamed Chester. Penn soon learned to count on experienced Swedish fur traders to act as interpreters when he negotiated treaties or bought land from the Delaware and Susquehannock Indians. And when his agents had picked a site for the great metropolis that he was planning, Penn found it expedient to buy the land from three Swedish brothers named Svensson. They were farmers, as their father had been, in what is now downtown Philadelphia.

The town the I live in, Norristown, was originally called Swedesford. Peter Rambo is buried in a churchyard a couple miles down the road.

The Swedes spread up the Schyullkill River from Philadelphia towards the site of what would become Reading, PA. About half way between these two iconic Pennsylvania cities, is the hamlet of Douglassville. And in Douglassville, one finds the oldest house in Berks County.


The house is a little off the beaten track. The sign points the way.

Monce Jones (Jonasson), the son of Jonas Nielson and Gertrude Y Svensdotter was born 1663 in Philadelphia, PA, USA, and died March 29, 1728 in Douglassville, Berks County, PA, USA. He married Ingeborg Peterssdatter Laikan Lycon, the daughter of Peter Nilsson Laikan Lycon.

I wonder just what pet name Mounce had for Ingeborg...


As the access road was deeply rutted and rather wet, I decided to walk into the site last weekend. I took this picture of a big leaf for a Swede I know, some time ago.


The access road turns into a long driveway. The house stands along the Schuyllkill River.


I think the front of the house faced the river. There is a fenced in herb garden just outside the front door.


The opposite side of the house has a prominent oven built into it.


The end of the house has one, very small window - I think this is because glass was imported from the old country (likely England) and was very expensive.


I thought the window was interesting enough to take a close up of it. It is rather plain.


In the "front" of the house, above the entrance way, is a marker that shows "I M I 1716". I pondered this for a while, I think the top "I" is an old style "J", and that the "M" and "I" below that might be Mounce and Ingeborg's initials. There was no one to be found in this little park, so I resorted to asking Mr. Google to no avail.

But...

Mr. Google did turn up something most intriguing. It seems that there are very (as in incredibly) old photographs showing the contents of some unsuspecting immigrating Swede's luggage. Which, no doubt...


...shows how the Orange Cones came to America. This rare photo shows three members of the most invasive species known to the human race that hitched a ride from the old country...

Inscribed on the back, it says, "Harold Coneson and Jenny Ochasdatter, arrive in America with little Peter Haroldsson in 1684. Jenny was claimed to have been the first to use the newfangled traveler's pillow."

With my feeble computer skills, I was able to greatly enhance and colorize the photograph.


Submitted for your approval -

Rudy - Then and Now

Along the Perkiomen Trail lies the 19th century Victorian country village originally known as Rudy.

It prospered as a railroad town when railroad service began in 1868. The Perkiomen Railroad followed the Perkiomen and Hosensack Creeks to reach the suburbs of Allentown, PA.

The Hosensack Creek takes it name from the Pennsylvania Dutch dialect, "Hussa-sock" translates to "pants pocket" in English. Those crazy "Dutchmen"!

When the railroad reached Rudy, the town was renamed Salford Station. When I saw this old black and white picture of the station (taken around 1932) in a recent newspaper article, I decided to see where it stood along the trail. Note the (presumably) black car next to the general store in the left distance.



The train stopped going past Salford Station in the 1970's.


I walked back and forth, trying to find the exact same spot the old picture was taken from.



Today, the rails and the station are long gone, but the red-painted general store (to the far left) and the mansard-roofed Salford Station Hotel (to the far right) still stand -


This 1932 view of the Perkiomen Creek was taken from the summer vacation spot there. The area was known as Camp Rest-A-While and people from Philadelphia would come on the train to stay there.


Some of the families owned summer houses there and some rented them. There was a refreshment stand and a dock where you could get a canoe.


There is a property with cabins on it not far from the station. I don't know if these were a part of Camp Rest-A-While. People still swim in the creek there - usually during the hot summer days during the annual weeklong Philadelphia Folk Festival.

Amos Adams Lawrence and The Jayhawks

No, this isn't the cool name of some new band -


Amos Adams Lawrence (July 31, 1814 – August 22, 1886), born in Groton, Massachusetts and educated at Harvard College, was an important figure in the United States abolition (anti-slavery) movement in the years leading up to the Civil War.

He entered business as a commission merchant and eventually became owner of Ipswich Mills, the largest producer of knit goods in the country.

In addition, he was a member of St. Paul's Episcopal Church in Boston, where he met and married his wife, Sarah Appleton, as well as a trustee of Massachusetts General Hospital and president of the Young Men's Benevolent Society.

He contributed large amounts of capital to the Massachusetts Emigrant Aid Company, a company that supported the settlement of 1,200 people in what was to become Lawrence, Kansas, and John Brown's abolitionism. He played a major role in the crucial border state of Kansas although I don't believe he actually ever went to Kansas.

Lawrence also contributed to funds for the colonization of "free negroes" in Liberia, Africa. Liberia was founded as a colony by the American Colonization Society in 1821-22. It was created as a place for slaves freed in the United States to emigrate to in Africa, on the premise they would have greater freedom and equality there.

Lawrence financed the founding of the University of Kansas in Lawrence, Kansas. He also founded a college in 1849 that evolved into Lawrence University on 5,000 acres of land that he purchased in the Fox River Valley, which became Appleton, Wisconsin (so named for his wife).

His farm outside of Boston became the campus for Boston College. In 1857-1862 he was treasurer of Harvard College.


Jayhawkers is a term that came to prominence just before the Civil War in Kansas, where it was adopted by militant abolitionist groups. These groups, known as "Jayhawkers", were guerrilla fighters who often clashed with pro-slavery irregulars, as well as Missouri militia units.

Jayhawker miliary bands invaded Missouri with the intent of freeing slaves and killing slave owners. In the course of their mission they committed some of the most unjustifiable acts of the Civil War, including a massacre at Osceola, Missouri, in which the entire town was set aflame and at least 9 male residents were killed.

The sacking of Osceola inspired the 1976 film The Outlaw Josey Wales, directed by and starring Clint Eastwood.

With the admission of Kansas as a free state in 1861, "Jayhawker" became synonymous with the people of Kansas. In more recent years the term "Jayhawker" has been applied to people or items related to Kansas, similar to the term "Hoosier" for Indiana, "Sooner" for Oklahoma, and "Buckeye" for Ohio.

The term refers to the mythical Jayhawk, a cross between two common birds—the noisy blue jay and the quiet sparrow hawk.

St. Peter's In The Great Valley

Last Saturday, the weather was gloomy and threatened rain at any moment - so I stayed close to home and visited some Revolutionary War sites that, while nearby, I haven't visited or paid much attention to - Amongst those sites was the Paoli Massacre in Malvern, PA, the Diamond Rock (Octoagonal) Schoolhouse, and an old Church used as a hospital during the War of Independence. Some of the other pictures I took Saturday are in the Flickr photostream on the right.


"The township of Tredyffrin, in which St. Peter's Church principally resides, is translated from the Welch word "Tryduffrin" meaning "great valley". This Great Valley, where they had planted themselves, reminded many of the Welsh colonists of vistas from their beloved homeland; the natural conditions are strikingly like those found in the Welsh Border counties."


"The log church that would become St. Peter's lay at the 'upper' or north-western corner of Tredyffrin Township within an already existing burying ground at the crest of the highest hill within the middle of the Great Valley. It was common to build a church on ground already used as a burial place."

The Church is the white building in the center of the picture above at the edge of an abandoned limestone quarry.


"As revolutionary fervor against Great Britain increased by 1776, the dilemma of Anglican parishes in general, and St. Peter's Church in particular, became acute. This quandary was exacerbated by the refusal of the Rev. Currie to renounce his vow of loyalty to the King, taken as a young priest years before."


"Considered a Tory by many throughout the parish, the confrontation between parishioners and priest became so hostile that Rev. Currie no longer had the consent of his flock to lead and thus resigned from active service in May 16, 1776."

The Church then went without a leader for many years.


"Tradition has long held that immediately after the Paoli battle, the British, viewing St. Peter's as a Church of England property, supervised the burial of a British officer, at least two other British enlisted soldiers, and at least five Continental troops killed in the Paoli battle. They lie buried side by side along the old west wall of the churchyard."

"Each grave is marked by a single fieldstone, with no inscription or epitaph of any kind, to indicate the British or American occupant."

There are many other old graves.


"In memory of David Williams,
who departed this life September the 4th,
in the year 1801 In the 63rd year of his age
My flesh shall slumber in the ground
Till the last trumpet's joyful sound
Then burst the chains with sweet surprise
Aid in my Saviour's image rise"

"In memory of Roger Little who departed this life Oct. 1st, 1819 In the seventieth year of his age (Revolutionary Soldier)."

"In memory of Mary Little who departed this life May 11th, 1841 In the seventy-ninth year of her age."

I wondered if this was the Mary that had the little lamb.

Source of the quoted text.

For the Ketchup Girl

This past Saturday morning, I found myself in a dysfunctional state. I had slept badly with some of the worse of the demons of the dark past lurking in my head and was on the verge of not going to my Grandfather's birthday party.

I had put a lot of effort, over six months, into tracking down some people to invite to the party and making complicated arrangements for other people to be there - but on the morning of the party - I just couldn't face the world and the emotional strain I knew the party would be.

Someone who describes herself using the words "I am a ketchup girl" spoke to me via instant messenger for a few calming moments and really helped me get myself collected.

I know I would have never heard the end of it if I hadn't gone and I've already said "Thank you" to the "ketchup girl" - but sometimes "Thank you" seems - so feeble.

We've spoken of covered bridges in Pennsylvania - so I wanted to take some pictures of the one near me - specifically the Valley Forge Covered Bridge - for her to reiterate my thanks.

This bridge is also known as the Knox Bridge, as it's located within Valley Forge National Historical Park, on Yellow Springs Road adjacent to the farmhouse that General Knox used for his headquarters.

General Knox was a Boston bookseller, a supporter of the Sons of Liberty, and was present at the Boston Massacre. He is known for having the cannons from the captured Fort Ticonderoga dragged over 300 miles in the cruel cold grip of winter to Boston, where they were used to force the British to leave the city.

Knoxville, Tennessee, is named in his honor. There are counties named for Knox in Illinois, Indiana, Kentucky, Maine, Missouri, Nebraska, Ohio, Tennessee, and Texas.


"His" covered bridge was built in 1865, spans the Valley Creek and is only one lane wide.


I used to drive over this bridge twice day going to work and then coming home.


The original timbers were all sawn by hand.


The bridge is nearly overwhelmed by today's SUVs and is in need of some paint.


Thank you ketchup girl.

My Adventure with Karla and James

My good friends, Karla and James, wanted to see everything there is to see within 100 miles of Philadelphia and had two days in which to do it...so we had to set some priorities and that meant making a short list of "must sees".

Of course, going to see my balls was one of those "must sees".

So on Thursday afternoon, after taking in the sights of Valley Forge National Historic Park, the Dinosaur Museum, and the Liberty Bell, we rested briefly while enjoying a good meal at the Lone Star Steak House.

Then we were off again, to visit the Schuylkill River Trail to feed the Chin-strap ducks some leftover french fries, ignoring the fact that it was totally illegal to do so. We also enjoyed patting my Moose on the head before going on to what was to be the highlight of my day - Seeing my balls!


I really do think James is impressed with them. In fact, I think he wanted to take one home with him - and would have except for a couple things...Firstly, I think tying one onto the roof of Alice Kay's car probably would have given someone a heart attack.


And secondly, I reminded James, these very special balls are going to be shipped to Marmite Toasty over in England - someday - once I find a big enough box and gather up enough styrofoam peanuts with which to safely pack them for FedEx.

Undeterred, James decided to investigate a little more closely.


James, I wouldn't do that... James... James... Umm... hearing an ear-piercing scream, I turned away from the Alien Space Spheres to see what the commotion was.. and saw Karla pointing mutely back to the spheres...


Oh My God! James is an alien pod person now!! Karla! Run!! Run before its too late!

How many of you were reminded of the children's book titled, "James and the Giant Peach"? :)