Finally Did It

For several years now I have known that the Pines Speedway in Groveland, MA holds a reunion event.  Each year I have decided to go and each year have totally forgotten to do it.

This year was different.

I was determined to see what was going on.

When I grew up in Groveland we would go to the races quite a few times each season.  I loved it.  The noise, the dirt, cheering for Big O, being frightened that my Dad, sooner or later, would join the Spectator Race (he never did, but I feared it would happen).  Sitting on the wooden bleachers built in to the sandy dirt hillside, round and round the 1/4 mile track, the Starter Flagman positioning himself mid track while the cars approached around the curve and in the last few seconds jumping, waving the green flag and dashing to the edge of the track, even the occasional car running off the track and down the embankment to the river to be hauled out dripping wet by the wrecker.

Replica of Ollie Silva's Big O

Those summer Saturday nights that we didn't go to the races we could still hear them.  Lulled to sleep by engines and announcer just audible in the distance.

A new finish line...but not THE original

I wish there were still races at the Pines Speedway.

Someone needed a rest...or was dreaming about winning the next race

  You'd see me there again.

Words of a Picture

Some time back I wrote a post about a picture that I came across while looking through some stuff my Dad had stashed away.  I just checked to find that the post is dated from April of 2008.  Most of you will remember reading it...hah. Those of you who don't can refresh your memory about the post here.

Most of you will also remember that a couple years ago I went through the mess of settling both my cousin's and aunt's estates.  During that process 'R' and I traveled to South Carolina to sort through lots of their stuff and make arrangements for the clearing out, repair and sale of their home.  I sent a box, that contained a lot of photos, back home to myself.

In that box was this photo:

Remember?  If not, go back to that link I gave you.

Same photograph is in the photograph.
It gets better.
We have the statue that belonged to my grandparents.  The one that the original photograph was propped up against to be photographed.

So......today I finally did this:

A Family Story - part five

Well, it has been nearly a month since I wrote here.  Kind of a long time, for me!  Once Marion, George, Peter, Mr. Marshall, my grandfather and his wife moved to Florida it was long spells between visits.  We traveled to Florida several times to visit with them.  Then, with more family of our own, we moved to Florida, too.  By then I was married and we had a daughter.  My folks moved down at the same time.  We all lived about two and a half hours from Marion, George, Peter and family. 

Over the next few years the families visited each other frequently, especially for Thanksgiving and Christmas.  Thanksgivings would alternate between the households.  Always Peter would say grace and although we could not understand most of what he said, we could always hear our names in his prayer.  Shortly after Thanksgiving of 1990, Peter became ill and died.  While obviously a sad time for Marion and George, they were relieved that he would not have to be without them to care for him.  They put the Morse Shores house up for sale and moved further north in Florida.  They bought a small house on a lake where George enjoyed fishing until his death in 1993.

Paul at home in Connecticut

 Marion felt very insecure living by herself after George's death and Paul left his home and job in Connecticut to move in with his mother.  Hating the hot and humid weather that draws others to Florida, Paul wanted to move back north but Marion didn't want to live with the cold winters.  They decided to move to South Carolina where the climate was a bit more moderate and where Marion and George had often spoken of living.  They bought land and built a house in the north western part of the state in 1996.

Marion, Christmas 2003

It was in that home that we continued our holiday exchanges, particularly at Thanksgiving, and as my parents had become seasonal Florida residents (snowbirds), they stopped to visit with Paul and Marion on their trips back and forth between Massachusetts and Florida.  And it was in that home that both Paul and Marion died.  Paul in December of 2010 and Marion, just over six months later in July of 2011.

Paul (L) and Marion (R) with Marion's PT nurse after Marion's stroke in 2006-07.  This is the last picture we have of them.

A Family Story - part four

I left off where?  I believe it was about the time that Marion and George got married.  That was 1955 and happens, also, to be the year that I was born. 

Marion

According to their wedding certificate, George's two sons were the witnesses, so I would think that they were at least 18 years old at the time.  George and Marion moved in with George's father, Mr. Marshall, and for a time so did George's two sons and Marion's son Paul.  Paul would have been 10 years old at the time.  It must have been quite a crowd! 

Two Marshall houses.  I remember visiting the family at this bottom one.

At some point George's sons moved out and on to lives of their own leaving Marion, George, Mr. Marshall and Paul.  I, of course, was very young and don't remember much about those years.  I remember visiting once in a while and remember Paul living there even after George and Marion had a child together.  It was shortly after that child, Peter, was born though, that Paul left to live with his father.

Mr. Marshall, Marion, and Peter

Peter was born in 1961 with Down's Syndrome and a host of other conditions that go with it.  The doctor told Marion and George that he doubted that Peter would live past two years.  Peter was doted on by Marion and family and all that focus on him, no doubt, was a major reason that Paul moved out.

Paul with Peter at the house in Morse Shores, East Fort Myers FL 1966(?)

After Paul graduated from high school, he enlisted in the Army.  At about the same time, Marion, George, and Mr. Marshall decided that there would be more opportunities for Peter in Florida.  They sold the house in Connecticut and bought property first in Cape Coral, then in Fort Myers, FL.  Marion's father (my grandfather) and his second wife followed them south.  It was in a neighborhood called Morse Shores that Peter grew up.

George, Peter, Marion 1984

 

A Family Story - Found Photos

Thought I'd post a few photos that I just found.

Marion, in 1942, on 31st Street, Camp Shelby, Mississippi.  Could this be when she married Connie?

Connie 1944

George and Marion 1955

For the fun of it I have included this last photo.  Parrot Jungle just outside of Miami!  A really cool, old Florida attraction that I believe no longer exists.  I went while on vacation with my parents when I was three years old.

George, Sr., Parrot Jungle 1956

A Family Story - the third part

So, last I wrote, I had left Marion and family in San Diego.  They remained there for the duration of the war.  My grandfather worked as a groundskeeper.  His daughter, Marion, worked in a defense plant.  A Rosie the Riveter! 

Marion with Paul as a baby and at four years old

At some point in the late 40's the entire clan moved back to Stamford, CT.  Marion, Connie and Paul moved into an apartment created in a Quonset hut near the beach.  My mother remembers visiting them there.  Shame that there are no photos of it.  My mom and dad remember Connie as being a real nice guy.  He owned a gas station, worked hard, but got nowhere. As a husband, he evidently was not Marion's ideal.  Connie liked to spend more time with his buddies over a couple beers than home with wife and baby.  Sometime in the early 50's, I think, Marion divorced Connie and took Paul to live with her parents.  For several years they lived together in a small rental house in Stamford.  Marion's dad, my grandfather, worked as a machinist for McCall's publishing.  Marion earned a certificate in bookkeeping and found a job in that field.  I suppose that my grandmother spent a lot of time taking care of Paul!  The fifties years moved along and Marion met George.  They were happy together.  George was divorced and had two sons.  When George and Marion married they all lived together with George's father.  Marion, George, George Sr., Paul, Arnold and Allen.  It was a full house that burst at the seams with the children moving out as soon as they could, especially when another son was born.

A Family Story - Part 2

Marion and her family lived in the Greylock area of North Adams for most of Marion's childhood.  She and her siblings, my uncle Tom and my dad Al, would tell many stories of those growing up years.  Like the boys smoking corn silk, "hiding" behind the mill to avoid getting caught, while their fathers watched from the windows above them.  Or Marion, just a young girl, having to care for her parents and brothers during a flu epidemic and how when she headed out to get bread from a neighbor sank knee deep in mud at the foot of the back stairs, with only her screaming bringing the neighbors to check.  I remember a short tale told each time we drove past a vacant lot at the foot of the Mohawk Trail, entering North Adams.  "There used to be a house there," my Dad would say.  "There was a big mudslide that came down the mountain and destroyed it." (Obviously never rebuilt!).  As a youngster, my uncle Tom built a glider.  Full sized!  The neighborhood boys dragged it up part of Mount Greylock and "launched" him off a cliff.  It flew.  Uncle Tom flew!  His dad heard word of it and took an axe to the glider!  Tom would become a professional pilot in adulthood. 

Marion in her late teens

While living in Greylock and working at the mill, there was occasion, some mill business of some sort, to travel to New Bedford and meet with other mill workers.  That's when my father's family met my mother's family and became lifelong friends.

The Birch/Jennings kids at Mausert's Pond, l-r: Marion, Hugh J., Tom, Norman J., and Al (my mother was not yet born)

Marion, Tom, and Al grew up and into the start of WWII.  Tom entered the Army Air Corps and was stationed in Arizona for part of the war.  Al joined the Navy and spent the majority of the war in the Pacific.  After a short stint when Marion and her parents lived in Stamford CT, the three moved west to San Diego (Marie, Tom's future wife accompanied them) to be closer to Tom and also, they felt, where Al would come ashore.  Sometime near the beginning of the war, Marion met and married Connie, an Army man.  During her time with her parents in San Diego, my cousin Paul was born.  That was Feb. 8th 1945.

A Family Story

This will only be one part of many parts of a family story that I probably will never finish telling.  It is the story of my Aunt Marion.  She was born in Pownal, VT and her parents were cotton mill workers.  Her birth certificate states that her father, my grandfather, Matt, was a spinner.  That was only one of many jobs that he held during his life.  Matt was born in Maine and my grandmother Margaret was born in England.  Marion was their oldest child, one of three, the next in line was Tom, and then finally my dad, Al.  As Marion got old enough, maybe 7 or 8 years old, she was in charge of her younger brothers while her mother and father went to the mill in North Adams, MA to work.  During that time the family lived in Greylock, MA, on Taft Street, in what the siblings remembered calling "the six colors".

Marion and her mother, Margaret

Here's a photo of Marion with her mother in about 1918.  Little did she know what a long life she would have, how many places she would live and all the unfortunate circumstances in she would smile and make the best she could from.

Cleaning Up for the New Year

Since I have today off (YAY) and I had the weekend off (YAY), I decided it would be a good time to sort and clean.  You know...all that stuff that just gets shoved into any available spot, just temporarily until you have time to clean.

Ahhh, 80° and humid - to be there now...

I found this postcard in a pile of stuff that I had intended to scan someday.  The scene is Palm Passage, Charlotte Amalie, St. Thomas USVI.  In December 1980 and January 1981 we spent a month on St. Thomas.  We often ate lunch at the outdoor cafe in Palm Passage.

The autographs on the back of the postcard

This card was never sent and was used for autographs.  Many evenings, while staying at Point Pleasant, we would walk around the cove to Coki Point and listen to a group of young locals playing steel drums.  They were the high school band.  We'd buy ice teas and find a bench under some palms and listen for a half hour or so.  I think they enjoyed the appreciative audience as most of the tourists would just walk on by.  They got a kick out of being asked for their autographs. I wonder what these 'kids' are up to these days?  Wow, they would be around 47, 48 years old!

So What Is Doing?

Sometimes I think...."Waaayyyyy too much."  I can't seem to stop the doings, though.  They just keep coming!

Overhead at the tuning!

First, back to my last post.  They still haven't paid for the tuning.  I'll be sending a second notice to them as soon as I buy stamps.

Oh yeah...I've got to go to the post office for stamps, including enough for sending Christmas cards (some need airmail Europe) but that won't happen until probably Tuesday.  Monday I've got to drive my mom to and from day surgery.  A shot for pain in her back.  It's nothing serious, they just won't let you drive yourself.  It's an hour drive each way and she will be there for a few hours...

Monday is shot (hahahaha).

Okay, so back to what HAS been going on...

A 'fire road' leading along Waring Field and in to the South Woods

R and I have started our SundaythereisnohuntingonSundays walks in the woods.  They haven't been too exciting.  No great discoveries - rocks and trees.  Just different rocks and trees from previous walks.  We need a change!

'Discovered' rock art near the Tarr Trail

Nothing is happening with the Haskins Park project.  I can't get anyone in charge at the town level to even correspond with me about the project.  I'm now waiting until after the first of the year to re-approach them with the topic.  Hopefully it will still be on their list and they'll be more willing to discuss it as a new year project.

Work has been steady.  More tunings and repairs as the holidays approach and keys still continue to arrive.

Out of the blue I received a call from the SC neighbors to my cousin's property.  I think that I mentioned here, long ago, that there was a big mess over the handling of his estate and the care of my aunt.  Well, evidently things have not been satisfactorily handled at that end (no surprise) and now I feel obligated to involve myself as much as I am able.  So, many phone calls and much online research later, I am trying to locate long lost relatives.  It's not easy, folks!  And even if I find these relatives, it is guaranteed to be a bumpy road to clear everything up at the SC end of things.  I'll do my best to resolve it...but no promises!

This is BIG.  The white areas, seen below at the edge of the marsh, are houses.

We have something new on the horizon.  An extremely large wind turbine is atop Railcut Hill.  While I'm not convinced of its successful supplementation of power for the business where it is located, I do kind of like the looks of it up there! There are to be two more nearby supposedly to be tied to Gloucester's grid.

Lots and lots of supplies for the price.

Yesterday, R and I went to an indoor yard sale at a small auction house.  Mostly, it was a pile of junk.  However, I did make a great buy with a lot of art supplies for only $15!  The lot included many unused tubes of artists oils and a handful of  brand new paint brushes.  There's a large collection of ink pens and nibs that I may use someday, too.  Considering the current price at the store for these items...I got a super deal!

Work, walks, paperwork (I did get my business books up-to-date and balanced the check books), phone calls, Christmas cards written, some shopping, errands, and the Sandy Bay Historical Society meetings...I've been busy!

Tentative Decision

Behind door number one or number two?

No really...I'm thinking on trying to post more often by sticking to shorter posts.  Like a paragraph or two each week.  I'll see how it goes.

The photo above was taken at Salisbury Beach.  The beach itself is beautiful white sand.  Unfortunately, the surrounds aren't even as pathetic as they used to be!  Years upon years ago, my friends and I used to frequent the amusement park at Salisbury Beach.  It was small but still some good summer fun.  Thinking back on it I'm surprised there weren't more accidents from mechanical failures.  I can only remember hearing of one bad one with the Ferris wheel.  I did used to ride that a lot.  That and the Himalaya. When I was much younger, there was the Frolics at Salisbury Beach. 

A 1930 - 1940 period postcard view of the Frolics

It was an Art-Deco styled nightclub that drew some top performers such as Frankie Avalon, Bobby Darren, and Liberace.  My folks would go once in a while and sometimes would take me along (I saw the above listed).  It's where I had my first 'drink', a Shirley Temple!

Plane Show Sunday

Different weekend than Car Show Saturday.

B-24

'R' wandered out of his office with a question, "Are there any airports around here that would have some military planes?"

B-17

Probably not exactly what he said.....

So I told him about Beverly Airport and said that they have a website.  "Why?"  Seems he heard something military sounding overhead.  From a cellar office with the windows closed!  I think that I was running some machinery in the shop, too!

B-24

With a quick online check, he determined that there was a show at the Beverly Airport of some WWII planes.  The list included a B-17, the same type of plane that my Uncle Hughie was aboard when it crashed during a training flight.  My mom has wanted to see a B-17, a real one, not just a photo.  She was ten years old when her brother, Hughie, was killed in that crash.  He was the first serviceman from their city, New Bedford, MA, to die in WWII.  The Standard Times reporter that was sent to the house to tell my grandparents the terrible news found that my grandfather had just come home from the hospital after a heart attack.  The reporter then chose not to tell them that their son had been killed in a crash.  They heard the news later...on the radio.  You can read about the crash and the memorial that has been erected at the crash site here.

So, back to yesterday.  We decided to drive mom down to the airport.

Mom at one of the B-17 props

Truthfully, both 'R' and I wanted to go see the planes, too.  Along with the B-17, there was a B-24, a P-51, a T-6, a Corsair, and a Stearman biplane.

We spent a little more than an hour looking around and taking lots of photos.

Mom, me and R reflected at center

And......we got to go aboard the B-17.  Quite an experience for my mom to see what the plane was like and to imagine her brother aboard.

Mom at the starboard gun

So glad 'R' heard that plane overhead on Sunday morning.  So glad we went.

Before the Storm

Generally speaking I've found that a few days before a major storm there is some rather lovely weather.  True this week and we took advantage of it.  Yes, I suppose that the good weather is given as opportunity to do the preparedness thing for the bad weather to follow...we've done a bit of that...but we took the day off on Wednesday to travel to 'the other Cape'.

The four of us loaded ourselves and some cut flowers into the car at 9 a.m. and headed for my dad's grave at the National Cemetery in Bourne.  As expected it was beautiful weather, not expected was the miserable traffic.  'R' makes fun of my complaints about highway traffic around here (I know, I know, it's not like real traffic in CA). Anyway, mid-week-after-morning-rush-hour and it should have been better on the roads.

This trip we would not be staying overnight at my cousin's house.  They already had company from out of state.  So.....the BIG drive there and back and a tour around all in one day trying to get home before too much night driving yet after Boston rush hour......phew.

We arrived at the cemetery before noon and found that they were doing some renovation work just where we needed to get by.  A slight detour brought us back on track with the first stop at my aunt and uncle's grave.  Then back to dad's.  'A' was surprised to find that her penny was still on his stone (well, slightly off the edge) from when she placed it there last year!  She put it back at top center and added another.  I guess it's 'a penny for your thoughts' kind of thing.

After the cemetery we headed along Rte. 6  west and stopped for lunch with my cousin 'D'.  Then on to cousin 'P's house for a quick visit with her and her family (those out-of-state guests).  By this time it was getting to be mid afternoon and we still had more traveling and stops to make.  Onward to New Bedford where we toured around the south end where my mom grew up and where we made another cemetery stop.  Rural cemetery is where another uncle and my grandparents are buried.  More flowers to deliver graveside and then off again!

Our next stop was to waste some time!  Yep, even though it seemed we had been traveling foreverrrrrrrr, it was too early to finish and head home.  It was only 4:15 p.m. and I didn't want to be on the road north until 5:30ish.  Had to miss that late afternoon traffic around Boston and Boston was only an hour away.  So we stopped at the Friendly's in Dartmouth for a drink  (lousy service!) before heading further west on Rte. 6 to check out the remains of Lincoln Park.

One of the spots where we could see through the fence (The Comet in the background)

Lincoln Park was a local amusement park from 1894 to 1987.  You can read a brief history here.  If you search for "Lincoln Park, Dartmouth MA" you'll find a lot more.  Our family spent many happy days at this amusement park from the 1940's through the 1970's and over more recent years have watched as the park closed, fires consumed familiar buildings and vandals left their marks.  We were curious as to how much would remain.  The answer?  Not  much at all except for a portion of the roller coaster.  The Comet, which lost it's BIG hill to collapse under the weight of snow in 2005 (I think).  When the park closed, all the rides were auctioned off.  The carousel was preserved and moved to Battleship Cove Park in Fall River. MA.  Neglect and fires destroyed what remained of the park's ballroom, rollerskating building, concessions, funhouse and arcades.  As much as the desire exists to discover old, hidden treasures within the off-limits grounds, they are just not there.

All that is left of a spot that brought so much joy.

So after a bit of peering through the chainlink fence for photo taking, we drove back east a mile or so to take a look at the house my grandfather built in the 1920's.  Then on to the highway and home, stopping only to get dinner at our local Friendly's.  It was still daylight when we arrived there but dark by the time we left for the final few miles to our door.

Valentine's Day

A very brief explanation...

Back in the 1950's my mom and dad invited their best friend couple to come and live with them while the best friends were looking for an apartment.  My dad and Earle worked together at Western Electric.  Mom and Priscilla had been friends since high school.

While living together at my parent's house, Valentine's Day rolled around and Mom and Pris baked a heart shaped cake while Dad and Earle were at work.  They were thrilled with it and could hardly wait for their husbands to get home.

This poem was written [by Mom (and me)] as a remembrance for Priscilla and Earle's 50th wedding anniversary book.

(Please excuse the punctuation errors and various other glitches...our typist at the time was volunteered for the job and kind of messed up a bit.)    

The Rest

So...his commendation reads as follows:

United States Pacific Fleet

Flagship of the Commander Third Fleet

The Commander THIRD Fleet, United States Pacific Fleet, 

takes pleasure in commending

ALFRED LOUIS BIRCH

CHIEF FIRE CONTROLMAN

UNITED STATES NAVY

for service as set forth in the following

CITATION:

"For outstanding service in the line of his profession as Chief Fire Controlman in the plotting room of a fast battleship throughout a difficult and especially successful bombardment of vital enemy industrial shore installations in the Japanese Empire on the night of 17-18 July 1945.  By his skill and initiative in the performance of his exacting duties during this bombardment he contributed directly and significantly to the success of his ship in inflicting substantial damage upon the enemy.  His conduct was in keeping with the highest traditions of the United States Naval Service."

W.F. Halsey

Admiral, U. S. Navy

_____________________________________________________________

Mom and Dad at the mess table, Mom and 'A' at Dad's bunk, Dad at the controls

Now, I don't know if this is the same incident as the bombardment of the Hitachi Industrial area.  What I do know is that on one occasion the USS Alabama suffered a hit that disabled the electrical system for the 12 inch guns.  The command of those guns was my dad's responsibility.  In order to continue firing, he personally maintained the electrical connection...literally...kind of 'grab this wire with the left hand and the other wire with the right hand'...and don't worry about me, don't touch me, and keep on firing guys!


Below is a post war photo taken at the University of Connecticut, Storrs, where my dad earned his degree in electrical engineering through the G. I. Bill.

Typing a letter to my Mom?  (Mom's picture on dad's desk)

The Final Page

                                                                                     

Eight and Nine

New to this?  Scroll down and find "A Letter Home" and start there.
                                                                                                    

                                                                                 

More of the Letter

Well, I couldn't keep you hanging with that stalled vehicle any longer.  Again, if you don't know what I'm talking about, you need to scroll down and start at the beginning..."A Letter Home".