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Tuesday, August 27, 2013

Hard Labor in New England


A few photos in anticipation of the upcoming Labor Day holiday.  Once upon a time, it meant more than the last backyard barbecue of summer.

The Fisk, Chicopee, Massachusetts, likely in the late 1930s.  Image Museum website.
 
 
 
Isaac Prouty Boot & Shoe Co, Spencer, Massachusetts, Spencer Historical Museum Collections. Richard Sugden Library, Spencer, Massachusetts.
 
 
Skinner Mfg. Co., Holyoke, Mass. Image Museum website.  See here for my previous posts on the Skinner silk mills: http://newenglandtravels.blogspot.com/2012/01/william-skinners-silk-mills-holyoke.html
 
 
 
War worker in 1942.  Gilbert Company, New Haven, Connecticut.  Photo Howard Hollem, Office of War Information.  See here for my previous post on women war workers:
 
 
Boys who worked at a cotton mill in North Pownal, Vermont, 1910. 
Lewis Wickes Hine, photographer, Library of Congress
 
 
Eastport, Maine, East Coast Canning Co., 1911,
Lewis Wickes Hine photographer, Library of Congress
 
 
Fiskeville, Rhode Island, Jackson Mill, 1909,
Lewis Wickes Hine photographer, Library of Congress
 
 
There but for the union go I.  Or you.  Happy Labor Day.
 
 
 


Monday, August 19, 2013

Dutch Island Lighthouse - Rhode Island




Dutch Island sits in the West Passage of Narragansett Bay, Rhode Island.  It was originally used as a trading outpost by the Dutch from New Amsterdam (you know it as New York), but the  young United States thought it a good spot to fortify with cannon in case of sea invasion, and these fortifications remained from the Civil War through World War I.
This Dutch Island Lighthouse was built in 1857, to replace an earlier light dating from 1826.

 
A sturdy little 40-plus feet tower nesting on its rock, the light was automated in the 1940s.  Vandalism came in the 1960s and ‘70s, but the locally formed Dutch Island Lighthouse Society came to the rescue and stored the structure.  It resumed operation in 2007.

Tuesday, August 13, 2013

George M. Stearns - The Parson's Devil


In this era of well-rehearsed sound bites and video imagery, it is rare to see the true and natural personalities of our public figures.  The picture we get is intentionally artificial, but there was a time when common folk rose in politics and society and became large in the public eye though the force of their own natural personalities.  One such man was George M. Stearns, a lawyer-orator of the nineteenth century.
In his white linen suit, Mr. Stearns dispensed his observations with Twain-like sarcasm. “If a man fell on the sidewalk, he brushed himself off, and went about his business.  If a man falls now he doesn’t get up until he thinks whether he can sue someone for damages.”
George Stearns lamented the overuse of our judicial system over one hundred years ago.  In Clifton Johnson’s The Parsons Devil (1927, Thomas Y. Crowell Company), Stearns is painted as a clever lawyer, a practical-joking character whose sense of humor was his calling card.  From this biography we also get a unique view of the western Massachusetts down of Chicopee in the nineteenth century.
It was in August 1848, only a few months after Chicopee became an incorporated town, that Stearns came here from his boyhood home farther north in the small town of Rowe, where his father was a Unitarian minister -- whereby Johnson titled his book The Parson's Devil.  He was seventeen and began his apprenticeship in the law office of John Wells, who had also been born in Rowe.  Wells later served in the state legislature, and was a future Massachusetts State Supreme Court Judge.
Young George Stearns swept his office, did chores, “read law” and mostly learned what it was like to be suddenly a part of a growing industrial community.  Stearns latched on to Chicopee, in the early years of its industrial might, and he savored it.
“The small brick dwellings along Exchange Street were occupied by the solid residents of the village,” Stearns recalled.  On the hill above the main village of Cabotville, there were woods, a few farmhouses, and dirt paths for roads where “an occasional board was laid down in the early spring to prevent your going knee deep in mud.”
Illustration, Chicopee 1856, original in Edward Bellamy Memorial Association
collection, Chicopee, Mass.
 
Chicopee was a staunch Whig town, where politics was discussed at Joe Bagg’s drugstore.  Abner Abbey read the newspapers aloud, and according to Stearns, much of the Civil War was fought right there over the cracker barrels.
 
Stearns married, had two daughters, and settled in the Springfield Street house which still stands across the street from the mansion that once belonged to his old colleague, George Robinson.  (George Robinson, former Chicopee High School principal and future Governor of Massachusetts, was also a noted attorney who successfully defended Lizzie Borden.  See this previous post.)
 
 
George Robinson
 
 
Though both Georges were cordial with each other, and both members of the Unitarian church, they did not always see eye to eye.  Much later in their careers when Stearns became a figure of the Democratic Party and Robinson in the Republican Party, Robinson supported James Blaine over Grover Cleveland for president.  Stearns remarked, “It reminded me of a pettifogger defending a chicken thief.”
In these days when political accusations are nastier and behavior vile, it seems amazing that “pettifogger” and “chicken thief” were once considered strong language.
Stearns was a master of language.  When he was arguing a case in court, the gallery would fill just to see him.  He was a rascal, and a joker, and a bit of an actor.  He could bring himself to tears in a defense argument, or squash his legal opponent with sarcasm.  At times his reputation for fun haunted him, as biographer Johnson noted, “He used to get angry clean through because the moment he got up to speak, the jurors would settle back expecting him to be funny, and one or more of the asses among them were likely to laugh in the middle of some of his most beautiful and eloquent passages.”
His reputation for silliness was not undeserved.  Stearns once bought the pants right off of Chicopee Savings Bank treasurer and future Chicopee mayor Henry H. Harris, who always kidded about him about his frugality.  Another time he won a bet with Harris, who had to pull Stearns home in a sleigh.
Stearns served in the Massachusetts House of Representatives and in the State Senate.  His advice was sought by political leaders in Boston, but Stearns preferred to make his permanent home in Chicopee until 1894, when frail health compelled him to move closer to his Boston physician, and he died in December.  His obituary in The New York Times (January 1, 1895) noted, “He was considered one of the ablest and most eloquent advocates, and one of the readiest and wittiest debaters in the State.  He was widely known as a jury pleader, and had a very extensive criminal practice.”
At that time he left western Massachusetts he lamented, “I’d rather see a piece of Chicopee sky than anything else.”
Stearns Terrace and Henry Harris Street intersect in the area that was still wooded when Stearns came to Chicopee.  The city’s growth might amaze him.  As for our propensity to sue for damages, some things never change.

An earlier version of this article appeared in In Chicopee, a publication of the Holyoke Transcript-Telegram, Holyoke, Massachusetts, May 1992.  Photos are in the public domain, from the Image Museum website.

Tuesday, August 6, 2013

On Stage and Screen - Summer 1965




One is first struck by how much there was to do, how vibrant the local entertainment scene in western Massachusetts and northern Connecticut.  This is a section of one page in the Springfield Daily News, from August 1965.  Major Hollywood and stage stars at the local summer theaters:  the Mt. Tom Playhouse in Holyoke, and the Storrowton Music Fair in West Springfield.

Drive-in theaters that no longer exist here.  Several neighborhood movie theaters offering air conditioning and the latest films, including The Elms in Hartford, which the exclusive rights to that year's blockbuster The Sound of Music until October, seats reserved, $2.75 for an evening performance, $1.50 for a matinee.

The Everly Brothers appearing at Mountain Park in Holyoke, along with Jerry Lee Lewis at the "Over 18 Discotheque", and a kids' show featuring that superstar Bozo, and our local Swabby in the days when local TV stations produced their own programming.

These were the days before the boxy cinemas, when people still wore dresses, coats and ties to even a neighborhood theater.

The Springfield Giants were playing minor league ball at Pynchon Park in Springfield against the visiting Pittsfield team.  Or you could see Lee Remick in Annie Get Your Gun or Dana Andrews or Mary Poppins at the drive-in, or "the over 21 dance in the Go-Go Room at Mountain Park.  Why would anyone stay home?

Old newspapers are time machines.  It's all gone now.

Tuesday, July 30, 2013

Clarence Brown - Autos and Movies




Clarence Brown, respected movie director during Hollywood’s glamour’s heyday, had a different career as a very young man.  How much influence the manufacturing city of Chicopee, Massachusetts, had upon his future choice of career in during the short time he lived here is unknown and probably negligible, but it is intriguing to observe how the fledging movie industry and the fledgling auto industry ran a parallel, and interdependent, course. 
Mr. Brown, before he ever knew what movies were, was employed by the Stevens-Duryea auto manufacturer in Chicopee.
Brown was born east of Chicopee in the town of Clinton, Massachusetts, in 1890.  The turn of the 20th century fast approaching, a menagerie of new innovations in science and art, and especially in new inventions, burst forth in such a stream of imagination that many qualities of the next century would find their prelude in this very decade. To narrow it down a little, both automobiles and moving pictures had their impetus in this frenetic decade called the Gay Nineties.
Both cars and movies have come to mean a great deal to us, and certainly to Clarence Brown.
While Brown was a small child, Frank and Charles Duryea were tinkering with their experimental gasoline-powered horseless carriage, the prototype for which was supposedly designed in their boardinghouse on Front Street in Chicopee. It didn’t take long for the auto industry to be off and running. The Overman Wheel Company in the section of town called Chicopee Falls was one of the country’s many new automobile factories; they were producing cars as early as 1900.
The men who designed and produced these marvelous machines were considered to be wizards of technology, dreamers, and rugged individualists. Clarence Brown may have fit into this mold, for surely he was a unique young man. Intelligent and gifted, he was allowed special permission to attend the University of Tennessee when he was only 15 years old.
While he studied engineering there, the threads of his future destiny were already forming for him thousands of miles away. In 1907, while Brown was away at college, the Duryea firm back in Chicopee contracted with the J. Stevens Arms plant in Chicopee Falls to produce their cars.
Stevens Arms company, postcard, Image Museum website, public domain
The following year the first movie theater in Chicopee opened. It was called the Gem, and it was located around the corner from the Stevens plant on Main Street. Any connection between these two newborn industries was unapparent at the time, and would even be to Brown at first.
His father, Larkin Brown, had run a cotton mill in Massachusetts, but when Clarence was a boy, the family moved south where his father continued in cotton textile manufacturing.  His father hoped that Clarence would go into the family business, but after graduating with two degrees at only 19 years old, the remarkable young man decided to follow his passion at the time—which was the new automobile craze.
He first went to Illinois to work at an automobile plant there, but soon came to Chicopee and the Duryea company around 1910.
Industry in the manufacturing town of Chicopee was diversified and booming at this time. Any number of products were produced here then, from foodstuffs to bicycles to clothing. Though we may think of the opportunities presented to the thousands of skilled and unskilled laborers who came here for work as represented by the huge influx of immigrants from Europe and Canada, Chicopee also became the proving ground for any number of professionals and “bright young men” who began their careers here.  One of them was Clarence Brown.
The Stevens-Duryea 1905 model
While Brown was working at the Stevens-Duryea auto plant, two more moving picture theaters opened up in the city. It would be tantalizing to think that Brown’s future fame as a director was born in a dark theater in Chicopee, but we’ll never know. Surely any interest he might have discovered in the flickers was put to the back of his mind, for about 1912 he left Chicopee. 
1912 advertisement
Brown is quoted in Kevin Brownlow’s The Parade’s Gone By…, “I became the traveling expert mechanic for Stevens-Duryea.  One of my calls was to a dealer in Birmingham, Alabama, who took a liking to me, and he set me up in a subsidiary company, called the Brown Motor Car Company. I had the agency for the Alco truck, the Stevens-Duryea, and the Hudson.  It was around this time—1913, 1914—that I became interested in the picture business.”
His favorite flickers at the time were produced by the Peerless Company, and Brown left Alabama and his business, and became an assistant to Maurice Tourneur, one of the directors for Peerless, whom he always credited with being his greatest teacher and directing mentor.
Years later Clarence Brown’s own films played in the new Chicopee theaters: the Rivoli, the Wernick, the Willow, and the Victoria—“second-run” neighborhood theaters which Brown never heard of because they were built after he left Chicopee.
Brown directed Greta Garbo in Anna Christie and Anna Karenina and five of her other films. His film A Free Soul made a star of Clark Gable, and his National Velvet introduced us to Elizabeth Taylor.  He gave us The Yearling, The White Cliffs of Dover, and Plymouth Adventure before retiring in 1953. He was nominated for a Best Director Academy Award five times.
Brown died in 1987 at 97 years old. Talent and ambition in one field brought him to Chicopee, but he made his mark in that other new industry in Hollywood.  And where would “the flickers” be without car chases?


A previous version of this article appeared in In Chicopee (a publication of the Holyoke Transcript-Telegram, Holyoke, Mass.) 1992.

Sources:
Brownlow, Kevin. The Parade’s Gone By… (University of California Press, 1976), pp.138-140.
Siegel, Scott and Barbara Siegel.  The Encyclopedia of Hollywood (NY: Facts on File, 1990) pp. 62-63.
Springfield (Massachusetts) Republican. September 19, 1937, p. 3E.
Thomas, Nicholas. Ed. International Directory of Films and Filmmakers: Directors, Vol. 7 (2nd ed. (Chicago and London: St. James Press, 1991), pp. 103-105.


Tuesday, July 23, 2013

Rose Island Lighthouse - Narragansett Bay



Rose Island Lighthouse is maintained by hired vacationers who sign on for a week at a time to keep this historical treasure operating.
You can find it on a small island in Narragansett Bay, Rhode Island (home to several small lighthouses, such as the Plumb Beach light we previously covered here.)
Very close to the town of Newport, the lighthouse began operating in January 1870.  It had undergone various restorations and improvements over the decades, but when the Pell Newport Bridge (which we covered previously here) was completed in 1969, that massive structure overshadowed the lighthouse both literally and in terms of acting as a better aid to navigation.  You couldn’t miss it.  That is a HUGE bridge.  The lighthouse was deactivated in 1971, and was abandoned, falling prey for the next 14 years to the elements, and vandals.

 
The Rose Island Lighthouse took on a new life when in 1984 volunteers formed the Rose Island Lighthouse Foundation and began restore it to its 1912 appearance.  In August 1993, the light was re-lit and once gain serves both as an aid to navigation and an historical treasure.  It is listed on the National Register of Historic Places.
You can even stay at the lighthouse.  For more on renting accommodations, or visiting the Rose Island Lighthouse, and some great photos, have a look here at this website, and here for more history.

 

Tuesday, July 16, 2013

Ladies Who Were W.O.W.s - Springfield Armory, Massachusetts



U.S. War Dept. photo, public domain

During World War II,  the Springfield Armory’s 50,000 employees worked around the clock producing 5,000 rifles per day.  At one point, 5,210 of the workers, 42.5% of the total Armory workforce were women.  They were called WOWs—Women Ordnance Workers.

When the men went to war, the women went to work, and several manufactures throughout the country hired women to replace the male workers gone into military service.  New England, a strong manufacturing base, already had a long history of hiring women for the textile mills of the 19th Century (See this previous post on mill girls), and now saw thousands of women in war plants and shipyards.  For many young wives of the World War II era, this was an opportunity to participate in the war effort and to earn a little extra income.  For many single girls, the war industries gave them their first jobs.  For the first time in as long as anyone could remember, there was plenty of work, and the pay was unlike anything they had ever earned.

There were only about 618 women working at the Springfield Armory before the war.  The making of small arms was the principal production.  The men those ladies were hired to replace during the war were skilled workers, many with years of experience on their jobs.  The shift over to a fair-sized force of new, inexperienced workers was not always a smooth one.  Adjustments had to be made in worker protocol, in safety measures, and in the very method of production. 

In peacetime, a man might spend four years in apprenticeship on his complicated machine; each operator was responsible for the setup and complete care of his machine.  In wartime, urgency required a streamlined operation.  The women operated machines while their male co-workers with the necessary experience would set up, repair and service the machines, as well as deliver heavy materials around the shop. 

Some adjustments were made in the shop to accommodate the ladies because new workers were very much needed.  Just as all those old wartime posters declared: swift and constant production was the key to victory.  The government set guidelines for manufacturers on dealing with the brand-new female workforce.  Separate adequate restrooms was an obvious first measure.  Chairs and stools at the machines were advised to cut fatigue, and special jobs were made available in the war industries to suit handicaps or with medical conditions such as heart trouble.  On-site cafeterias with hot meals saved time and energy, enabling the workers to avoid going out for lunch.  The Women’s Bureau of the Department of Labor advised an absence for pregnant women of six weeks before she delivered her child and two months after the child was born.  Some manufacturers preferred to fire pregnant women.  Many manufacturers including the Springfield Armory, at first were slack on Labor’s “equal pay for equal work,” but later the Armory revised pay rates to be based on the job performed and not on the sex of the employee.

Other recommendations many factories strictly enforced included banning the wearing of high heels, and encouraging the use of bandanas, hairnets or caps to protect the women’s hair from getting caught in the machines.  There had actually been some severe accidents, scalping really, and many women ultimately chose to emulate Hollywood star Veronica Lake, who cut her “peek-a-boo” over-the-eye blonde hair as a patriotic example to lady war workers. 
 
Wearing jewelry on the job was a hazard, and also a point of controversy, as newly married girls refused to take off their wedding rings.

Turnover at the Springfield armory was due mainly to exhaustion.  They worked fourteen days sometimes before getting a day off.  The Armory workers received one Sunday off a month.
 
The high turnover as well the absence of more senior male workers away in the war sometimes pushed women employees into higher positions, such as that of gang boss or even foreman.  In September of 1943, the Armory devised a special course for its foremen on the assembly and disassembly of their main product—the M1 Rifle.  The course was twenty hours, one hour a week set aside for the instruction.

Another factor to be considered in women’s participation in war industry was childcare.  The Works Progress Administration (WPA) supported free nurseries in the early years of the war, and when it was disbanded, individual communities later organized day care for the youngsters of their war workers.  Many Armory workers left their children ages two-and-a-half to four-and-a-half years of age across the street at the High School of Commerce, one of the many sites in the Springfield Day Centers for Child Care system.  Three dollars a week was charged for the nursery school, $1.50 for weekly care, and 15 cents daily for lunch.  Some of the high school’s home economics students participated in the nursery.

With all the difficulties facing the ladies entering this high-pressure, highly technical field of ordnance manufacturing, nevertheless, the ladies of the Armory, or WOWs – Women Ordnance Workers—were a vital and reliable source of “manpower” during a period of our history when many hands were needed. 

The ladies wore blue overalls, blue caps a mesh net for their hair.  To obtain these jobs they had to pass a civil service test, were examined by physicians, and submit to fingerprinting.  They earned an average of $125 a week, a marvelous sum for which they put up with long hours and an occasional blackout if they were on the “swing shift.” 

Sometimes, over the noise of their machines, they could hear the planes taking off from nearby Westover Field in Chicopee.  Even on the home front, the war was never really that far away.

For more on the Springfield Armory, have a look at this website.

And have a look here for the summer concert series at the Armory, including a World War II-era swing music night.



An earlier version of this article first appeared in Chickuppy & Friends Magazine, August 1986.

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