Trapp Family Singers in Springfield, Mass.

This is a program from one of the earliest public performances in the U.S. by the Trapp Family Singers, only weeks after they had arrived in the country as immigrants fleeing Nazi-occupied Austria.

Concert manager Charles L. Wagner (among whose famous clients was 1930s movie musical diva Jeannette MacDonald) brought them from Europe. They had to borrow the money to get here, and arrived with little more than the clothes they had on. Their home-grown family choir, under the direction of Reverend Franz Wasner, was their only means of support and their surprising eventual claim to fame.

But before they became Stowe, Vermont’s famous hoteliers, before Rogers and Hammerstein made them storybook icons with “The Sound of Music” on Broadway and in one of the most successful blockbuster films ever made, here they were, just a few weeks off the boat, performing on October 24, 1938 at Auditorium (later Symphony Hall), in Springfield, Massachusetts.

Most of their program was comprised of classical works, German leider and one bravely attempted American folksong they had learned in their uncertain and as yet heavily accented English. As a tribute to their new home, they embraced Stephen Foster and sang “My Old Kentucky Home.”

Pictured here are Maria Von Trapp (3rd from the right), and her seven stepchildren. Her two daughters with her husband, Georg Von Trapp, were too young to perform with them at this time. Maria was pregnant with their son, Johannes, who would be born in a couple of months.

By the 1940s, the farm in Stowe, Vermont would be their new permanent home and future career, the older boys would serve in the U.S. Army, and Maria would drop the European class conscious “von” from her name when she became a US citizen.

But right now, this moment in October, 1938, 71 years ago tomorrow, it was on with the show.

Arthur A. Smith Covered Bridge - Colrain, Mass.

The Arthur A. Smith Bridge, named for a Civil War Army captain, was first in one location over the North River, then moved further downstream to the Lyonsville Road spot about 1886. It would be moved again, not downstream or upstream, but over onto dry land.

At the time of the photo above, the Arthur A. Smith Bridge, as you can see, was dry docked, for a lack of a better word, in a crumbling state and left in the embarrassing position of rotting in a cornfield since 1991. It had been placed on the National Register of Historic Placed back in 1983, so it was hoped the bridge could one day be restored.

Eventually, in 2005, it was. For a look at the restored Arthur A. Smith Covered Bridge, back in its function as a bridge crossing the North River, have a look at this website. The bridge had been built originally in 1870 (replacing an earlier bridge), a Burr arch design 99 feet in length, originally meant for one lane of traffic (horse-drawn, that is). It was not originally covered, but the roof was added in the 1890s. Today it is used only for pedestrian traffic.

The 1938 WPA “Guide to Massachusetts” lists two covered bridges at this spot in Colrain. If anyone knows more about the second one, I’d love to know. (There had once been several more covered bridges in Colrain, and the Arthur A. Smith is the very last.)

It’s nice to see the photo of the restored bridge over the North River off Rt. 112 all painted red and tidy, but the above view of the bridge to nowhere has perhaps even more emotion to it. There is something haunted-looking about an historic site left abandoned. As it is, the restored bridge, now open only to pedestrian traffic, is little more than ornamental. Perhaps the restoration of this long dormant chunk of 19th century infrastructure says something about the power and the worth of even what is only ornamental.

McKinley Statue - Adams, Mass.

This statue of President William McKinley in Adams, Massachusetts would appear to be directing traffic. An easy job, considering there doesn’t appear to be much traffic at this tidy little rotary, now known as McKinley Square.

President McKinley supported legislation and tariffs favorable to the cotton industry, which was still a huge part of the economy and major employer in New England in the last days of the 19th century. Adams, a small town in the western Berkshires, was in its heyday as a mill town at this period, and the local Berkshire Cotton Manufacturing Company, headed by Plunkett Brothers, did very well at this time.

President McKinley, a friend of the Plunketts, visited Adams three times during his presidency, which tragically ended when McKinley was assassinated in September 1901. The new century, so anticipated with hopeful celebration, began miserably.

But the Town of Adams was not willing to let go of an old friend so easily. Shortly after the assassination, the town commissioned sculptor Augustus Lukeman to create a statue in honor of the slain president. The statue was unveiled on October 10, 1903, and still forms the centerpiece of McKinley Square.

For more on President McKinley’s ties to Adams, Mass., have a look at this website of the Adams Historical Society.

Hartford's Katherine Day House

Above is the Katherine Day House in Hartford, Connecticut, named for Katherine Seymour Day (1870-1964) who bought the historic home to save it from demolition. Day was the grandniece of Harriet Beecher Stowe. The Day House, right next to the home of Harriet Beecher Stowe (have a look at this post on the Harriet Beecher Stowe house), is part of the Harriet Beecher Stowe Center, housing the research library and administrative offices.

The home was built in 1884, designed in the Queen Anne style by architect Francis H. Kimball for owners Franklin and Mary Chamberlain. An ornate wood and granite house, a marvel of striking detail and 19th century opulence.

For more on the Katherine Day House and the Harriet Beecher Stowe Center, have a look at this website.

Creamery Covered Bridge - Brattleboro, VT

This is the Creamery Covered Bridge in Brattleboro, Vermont. It’s just off Route 9, and is one of southern Vermont’s most easily accessible covered bridges, making it very popular with the tourists.

Built in 1879 over Whetstone Brook, the bridge is some 80 feet long and 19 feet wide. The slate roof replaced the original wooden shingles around 1917, and the sidewalk was added around the same time. It’s built in the Town Lattice design.



What attracts us to covered bridges may not be something exactly precise, except for those who passions are 19th century architecture and engineering. For the rest of us, it may be just the general impression of a slower time, when to form and function something else was added. A sense of heritage as much as a sense of purpose. They are quaint, because we cannot pass over them at 70mph, we are compelled drive slowly, and then once on the other side, to get out of the car and walk back, and take a picture.

For more on the Brattleboro covered bridge, have a look here.

Such Finess as October Airs

You’d think we’d be used to the transformations by now. They are on the calendar. They are in our memories. Early frost. Early spring. Late bloomers. These are misnomers, for nothing is early or late except by our reckoning, and nature keeps its own time.

The peak season for color, which for those of you not from New England is considered part of the tourism industry, moves like a shaft of sunlight across the region. Bring in the last of the tomatoes. Reduce the garden to stubble as the trees show off new wardrobes. All in good time.


On Fields O'er Which the Reaper's Hand has Passed
By Henry David Thoreau

On fields o'er which the reaper's hand has pass'd
Lit by the harvest moon and autumn sun,
My thoughts like stubble floating in the wind
And of such fineness as October airs,
There after harvest could I glean my life
A richer harvest reaping without toil,
And weaving gorgeous fancies at my will
In subtler webs than finest summer haze.


Note: The above photos are from the Berkshires in Western Mass., the Hancock Shaker Village in Hancock, Mass., and Sturbridge Village in Sturbridge, Mass. Henry David Thoreau, he’s a Concord boy.

Border Line

Looking across the St. Croix River from St. Stephen, New Brunswick, you see the United States of America. What is more interesting perhaps is what you don’t see: no guards, no guns, no fences. The border is only a still and quiet river this serene dawn, a place to paint or photograph. You can’t see the physical line in the water where the U.S. and Canada join, like the maps show you is there. You can’t see that it’s an hour ago over there across the river where somewhere in the morning mist Atlantic Time becomes Eastern Time. It’s all a lovely illusion.

You need your passport now to cross back into the U.S., which makes the invisible border seem more real. But reality is parceled sparingly out here and there in other ways, too. The St. Stephen Lighthouse is not really an aid to navigation, it’s really more for show. That boat in the water might not be “real” either. It just makes the scene too perfect. But it might be real. Is it on the US side of the imaginary line in the water, or the Canada side? I suppose you could find out if you call out to the skipper, asking what time it is. If it’s 5 a.m. he’s in the U.S., if his watch says 6 a.m., he’s in Canada.