A Weighty Subject

You just never know what you may find in the oddest places.

So...do you suppose that Capt. James Babson is indeed interred in the workings of a pipe organ at a church in Lanesville?

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"Dev" read on to the Rowe post....

No One

Well, no one any more, that is.  Oh...that's the answer to who is buried in Rowe's tomb.

But there were some folks, probably with the name Rowe, buried there at one time!

I got to digging around the historical society's research room.  They have an entire loose-leaf binder containing an enlarged copy of the book, "Research in Rowe Search"!  And yes, there is a large section devoted to Major John Rowe AND several commentaries about THE tomb.

Within, quoted from "A County in Revolution" by R. N. Tagney:
"Bridge's regiment included John Rowe's company from Gloucester.  A detachment from Rowe's company carried off some of the entrenching tools.  When news came of the (British) landing, Putnam ordered the group, including Rowe, to the extreme end of the rail-fence on the left flank near the Mystic River, where they helped reinforce the rail-fence and construct a breast-work at the river bank with stones and dirt...the two division assault group moved forthwith...one toward the rail-fence under General Howe...the brave defenders witheld their fire until the red-clad troops had advanced well within the musket range.  Then they let loose a devastating volley, which shattered the line and caused the Redcoats to fall back in confusion."

Also, found in the binder is a copy of an article from The Salem Evening News, June 17, 1965, reading in part:
"He returned home, became a major in the militia, acquired his vast farm which included Pigeon Hill, and died in 1801.  His sword is on exhibit in the Old State House in Boston.  Years ago, an individual reports, youngsters were seen kicking bones down Rowe avenue(sic).  In a tomb, unmarked and its location known by few, Major Rowe was laid to rest.  Or was he?"

A map from "Research in Rowe Search"

Noted: "(The author later learned that John Rowe died 14 June 1801, at Ballston Spa, N.Y. and is buried there.  Other bodies in the tomb were removed to the parish cemetery.)"

Huh?  Other bodies?

And in a copy of a letter, included within the binder, written by Clara Swan, who lived on Pigeon Hill in 1965:
"I don't believe that  the bones the youngsters were kicking were from the tomb.  When the Granite Co. bought the land all the bodies in the tomb were moved to the Union Cemetery in Rockport..."

Aha!  Now all I need to do is make a trip down the road to Union Cemetery to find out who all those people were that were buried in Major John Rowe's Tomb!

Who's Buried In Rowe's Tomb?

Yesterday, R and I made the last-of-the-season woods walk.  Too many nasty, illness-bearing ticks are becoming active.  Our last walk was to locate Major John Rowe's tomb.  Major John Rowe was a Revolutionary War veteran and some of our local maps...Forest Fire Department and the Eben'r Pool map are just two...mark the location of Major John Rowe's tomb.

My red mark shows the designation "Major John Rowe's tomb"

So we set out on our quest at the top of Rowe Avenue.  Our last visit to this area did not yield the discovery of the tomb.  Last time we found the remnants of a large quarry building and that was fun to explore and photograph.

Old stone building

A shot from inside the building

This time we found the tomb.  Or, at least, something very tomb-like in the area designated as THE tomb on the maps.

Tomb-like structure built into the hillside

The tomb has been opened.  And graffiti-ed inside.

Large, rectangular vault built from quarried stones and cement

Now, there is a problem with this entire tomb thing.  I did a bit of research about Major John Rowe and that research confirms the information on file at Find-A-Grave.

Birth:    Aug. 8, 1737

Rockport

Essex County

Massachusetts, USA

Death:   Jun. 14, 1801

Ballston Spa

Saratoga County

New York, USA

Revolutionary War veteran. Commanded a company of militia at the Battle of Bunker Hill.

Note: Memorial stone (in Union Cemetery, Rockport). Major Rowe is buried in Briggs Cemetery, Ballston Township, New York.

Indeed.  So, if the Major is buried in New York and there is a memorial plaque at Union Cemetery in Rockport...what's up with Major John Rowe's tomb?

Who was buried in Rowe's tomb?

They Don't Make Clothespins Like They Used To

and more.

But first the clothespins...

As part of a big key job, I have replaced all the bushings which are little pieces of (red) wool cloth that line the mortises where the keys pivot on a pin and also where they are guided by another pin, AND I am replacing the leather covering on the backchecks (at the back end of each key). The 2.5" long X 3/8" wide strips of leather need to be stretched taut over wood and felt. One end is glued and allowed to dry, then the other end is pulled tight and clamped. I use spring style clothespins as clamps. The older ones work really well. Just clip them on. However, they don't make them like they used to. The new clothespins have their spring located further towards the 'grip' end and therefore they won't open wide enough to clamp around the backchecks. Very annoying. With the new ones I have to use the opposite end of the clothespin, spreading it open to clamp evenly across the backcheck. It's an awkward way to use a clothespin. Hard to imagine that such a small design change in clothespins would create a problem.Unless they're being used unconventionally!

'A' and I decided to go for a walk the other evening. We decided to put in extra effort rather than distance. We walked up Summit Avenue. In the distance you can see Straitsmouth Island. Up and up and up.
All the way to the top where the old Haskins Hospital used to be.All that's left is a park and picnic area...and these.
Later, we went out on to the Headlands. Because of the 56+ fires burning in Quebec, we have been subject to poor air quality. Bad enough that it smelled like the island was burning and visibility was down to 3 miles. Worse on the other Cape (Cod). Anyway, because of all that, the weather guy predicted a breathtaking, red sunset. We headed to the Headlands for pictures.Not much red. Not even later. Pretty, though.

Things Aren't What They Should Be

A twist on a favorite song - "Things Ain't What They Used to Be"

That's true, too. (Or as Dorothy Donegan said, "Sure ain't.")

So, my darling, fellow clerk on Sundays has decided that she doesn't want to work the job anymore. Now, it doesn't seem to matter that thousands of people would love to have ANY job and can't find one. Nor does it matter that she gave her word that she would work through the Labor Day holiday. "Seems, according to them, that I signed a contract or something," she said to me. "I tried to quit, but they said I can't." I tried to nicely remind her that, contract or not, she had given her word, people were counting on her. That trust is one of the more important things. Yeah, life's real tough with just 6 days left to finish out her obligation (she works two days/week). She has come up with a solution, though. A solution bound to alienate many people. I'm first in line, another clerk second, and I'm sure many customers will walk away with bad vibes. She comes to work. Ten minutes late each time. Sunday, she stretched her 30 minute dinner break in to 45 minutes, throwing off everyone else having their break afterward. She blatantly text messaged in front of me (and customers). And she did almost NOTHING. Yep, a BIG fat nothing. Oh, she waited on some customers, but never lifted a finger to fill any candy or clean. Nope nothing. Just a sullen body getting paid the same as the rest of us that are forced to pick up the slack. No worries, she thinks. Next summer she plans to tour Europe with her boyfriend. Uh huh. I've only got three more shifts with her and I've got some plans of my own (sly grin). Did I mention she's 16? Lots of growing up for that girl.

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Seems there are a lot of folks that you just can't trust. It's hard to know if you can even hold polite conversation. When a ten minute chat is later conveyed as 'spent the evening with', when a son changes to a 'friend'. When visiting a local college this week changes to setting up a visit sometime. A business client has sort of creeped me out. Spookier yet is that he stayed around the immediate area and I hadn't a clue. Don't know much about him. He has an in-state out of area cell number, out of state license plates, lots of 'professions' and stories. The more I hear, well, creepy.

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A few weeks back I made a terrible mistake.

"Mom, if you want to, we should check to see if the Pergo that you have in the rest of the house is still available. We could continue it in to your bedroom."

Wasn't long before I was hauling 7 extremely heavy boxes of flooring from the back of her vehicle up the stairs to stack in her parlor - waiting for installation - by me.

Last Saturday, on a beautifully hot and humid day, with no air conditioning, I cut up and hauled out wall-to-wall carpeting and padding. I removed all the tack strips and all the baseboards. Tomorrow, all achy from work irritated arthritis, I'll begin installing her flooring. Oh yeah, another scorcher tomorrow!

But that's not what I really want to tell you. We had one extra box of the Pergo from when I floored her den and hallway nearly two years ago (wow, where did that time go?). It was stored down in the cellar on top of my weight bench (no comments on that please). On top of the box of flooring was stored a rolled up all-weather mat for the inside of Mom's front doorway. She uses it in the winter, usually, but didn't this past winter. When I moved the mat I noticed a puddle on the box of flooring. I confirmed that there was no plumbing overhead. I went to check the mat, which I had stood on end, out of the way. The concrete floor was very wet beneath the mat.

Huh.

I got my mom to take the mat outside and hang it over the deck railing to dry. Lots of water dripped out of it making a narrow river of moisture along one decking board. The narrow river looked a little dirty and I had just spent 5 hours scrubbing and cleaning the deck last weekend so my mom took the hose to it to wash it down well. By the end of the day the deck had dried. The mat was still oozing so it had been moved to a better spot, off deck, to dry. The next morning the little river was back! By day's end it had dried up... only to return the next morning.Here's a picture I took before it dried up today. And although it's just a short bit in the picture, each morning the entire wet stripe is about 8 feet long. I have figured out why the mat was wet. Can you? But what's up with the deck? Can't wait until morning to check it out again.

And I'm Shaking My Head

Spring has sprung. Mr. Revlon is ba-ack! For you non-locals, Mr. Revlon is actually a member of the cosmetic family. Unfortunately, he apparently suffers from something at least resembling schizophrenia. He used to live here all the time. Then he disappeared and I heard that he had been relocated to a group home near Hamilton. He has made several appearances back in town over the last couple years. Our first sighting, this year, at Five Corners, revealed him as more bedraggled than ever. Slighlty heavier, but still with wild man hair and bushy beard and sporting the same turquoise and white jacket from our last year's sightings. Two different shoes. I think he sometimes hires a taxi to come back 'home'.

A couple days ago, I decided that it was time to take the 4 tubes of sand out of the back of my truck. They are in there to increase driving traction in the snow. Each tube of sand weighs 70 lbs. As I slid the first one out off the tailgate aiming to lower the end on to the two wheeled dolly, I dropped it. On my foot. A direct hit on my all ready aching arthritic knuckle just topside of the ball of my right foot. I tried to ignore the pain, the sick to my stomach feeling, and just keep it moving. It succeeded until I got out of bed the next morning! Ouch! I took a look and found a decently ugly bruise. It sort of screams when I put my shoe on even two days later. Tomorrow I get to be on my feet at work for 6 hours. Should be a screaming good time!

Our neighbors have decided to have a large tree removed and their driveway redone. Hurray to both things. But, that, combined with warmer weather and with the neighborhood kiddies on their motorized bikes, scooters, and mini 'cars', we decided to re-declare our ownership of the 'back drive' with PRIVATE WAY signs. Non-offensively small, they are meant only as a reminder to the adult neighbors and a legal deterrent to the kiddies. We don't want any liability for injuries of those who decide to trespass! BTW, I've never seen such a bizarre and involved method of tree removal! Couldn't have made it harder on themselves!

I was gazing out our door yesterday and spotted what appeared to be a large bubble on the lawn. I looked and looked. Could it really be a bubble? It was a clear orb, about 6 inches in diameter. It had a slightly reflective quality. Puzzled, I got my camera and headed out on a discovery mission. As I got closer, I could see a multitude of bright blue fragments 'through' the bottom of the orb. I took a picture, then gave it a nudge with my foot. It is a liquid filled ball with trillions of bits of blue glitter inside. Okay, maybe just thousands. Heck, for a toy, it is wonderful to watch the swirling glitter catch the light in waves and cascades. I brought it inside. It's a 'keeper'. I haven't a clue where it came from, no one had been around between when I had arrived home a mere 5 minutes prior to discovering the ball. Maybe, it was like the flying turkey breast, of years ago, that landed on our deck with a thump. Just dropped out of the sky...
fully cooked.
I'm not lying.

That Spooky Kinda Feeling...

Just in time for Halloween!

We need to travel back a few years. Back to February 2005. Things were a bit weird then, with my name and contact info having been posted on some raunchy message boards. The Internet version of the bathroom wall. Beyond not being amusing, it can also be quite dangerous. You never know who may be out there........nearby. What they might do. It was at that time that I started receiving obscene phone calls and hang-ups. All from numbers originating in Louisiana. There were a total of six different numbers, repeated calls from several. One afternoon, while I was working in the shop, I decided to try answering one of the calls again. Just to see if they would hang up. Another mumbling of obscenities. I hung up. The phone rang again, nearly immediately. Same number. I didn't answer. This time he left a message. A few minutes later, the phone rang again. Same number, similar disgusting message.

And again, again, and again. No more messages. Just hang-ups. All from the same Louisiana phone number. This guy was mad.

The phone didn't stop ringing. It was continual. The guy must have been dialing, letting it ring a couple times, hanging up and dialing again. Over and over. Eventually I took it 'off the hook' for the rest of the afternoon. After dinner I connected it again and all was fine. I took the recording from the answering machine to the police. They agreed that it was caused by my info being 'out there' and we knew who was responsible. I researched the numbers. Most came from cell phones.

We came to denote the series of phone calls as the 'Louisiana Calls'. After one month they ceased.

October 6, 2008. The phone rang and I checked the caller id. The number showed up with the designation underneath: 'Louisiana Call'

What?

Now, actually, I'm not really spooked by the phrase showing up on my caller id. I'm just finding it quite curious. My system displays the number and name, or number and state only, or private, or out of area. It does not use MY coined phrases!

Oh yeah, the call was from a cell phone.

What the Heck?

has been keeping me busy?


Part One
What are these little 'signs' for? These signs are located intermittently along Rte. 128 (a state highway). We have seen them nowhere else, yet. They are not evenly spaced along the highway nor do they seem to be placed in any intentionally useful regard. There may be several within mere feet of each other, or next to each other, or none for miles. Although all the ones in the pictures are mounted on other signs, there are many mounted on the guardrails, some on sections of granite ledge amid the brush along side the road, some on chainlink fences and on bridge abutments. Personally, I find the ones on the granite to be the most confusing. There are only three color types: plain brown, plain blue, or a vertically divided half brown-half blue. Sorry for the poor quality of the pictures. The signs are about 5 inches square. You try getting a good picture of something that size while being driven along at 55 mph! My mom thinks I worry too much about little things. That I might be a tad too curious. I'm not worried in the least about them. Curious, of course. They now bug me.

















So now every time I drive down 128, which is at least once a week, I wonder. I've got Amanda wondering, too.

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Part Two
Today was nice enough that Amanda and I went out for a walk in the woods. Once again, the easy trip down to Loop Pond and back around through the town tree farm. This time we decided to climb around on the 'ridge' at the edge of the pond. It was good exercise and something that will be totally impossible once Spring has sprung with brambles, tall grass, and saplings. I think the next time we woods-walk I'm going to first drive to the top of Summit Ave. and park near the stone mounds (remember those elephant graves?) and explore from there. Here's a picture from today that struck me for some reason.

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Part Three
Another thing that has been occupying some time is getting all the stuff ready for the Arts & Crafts shows. I've had a week of tunings and estimates and calls about key work coming in, but nothing in the shop (other than the reed organ that I'm still working on). I've been using the time finishing up the easel minis, making props and writing an 'About the Artist' placard that will rest on a small table easel. I've decided that I have enough inventory for the start-up with all the 5 X 7's that you see in the sidebar and 13 easel minis. Today, I took this picture of the minis and the collapsible display shelf for four of them. Oh yeah, I am making all the display rigs collapsible for ease of packing and transport. The easel minis are about 2.25 X 3.25 inches (I make the easels, too, and they fold flat like a real easel).

A Past in Art, More Estey, The Answer

Strange thing happened the other day. I had some spare time (okay that's not the only strange thing) and I decided to do some "googling". I checked out some names from my past. I started with a couple of professors that I had when I attended Massachusetts College of Art. Didn't find too much. A couple exhibits mentioned and my former painting instructor is evidently big into the global warming issue. Anyway, I just kept poking around for a bit. Then I thought of the woman that I had taken painting lessons from yeeeaaars ago. I was twelve years old when I start semi private lessons and stopped when I left for college. She had helped me gain membership to the Haverhill Arts Association. I was the youngest member (traditionally adults only). Her name - Barbara Baldwin. I was surprised at what I found.

She had just died. May 5, 2007. She was 93 years old. There's a nice obit here. Scroll down the page to find her.

It got me looking through my old scrap album from when I used to exhibit. How things change.

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I got an email, today, from a couple interested in taking a look at the Estey organ that I went to see just over a week ago. I've arranged to meet them at a local restaurant on Wednesday afternoon. From there they will follow me out to the Norton Farm. I'm looking forward to going back there and hope I can take some pictures as I am driving in. I am also hoping that if I do manage the pictures, that they will illustrate the feeling for the place.

So....yippee for the freebie job on Wednesday. Friday, I tune once again for the Rockport Art Association, and Saturday I'll be heading for Marblehead to remove the upper innards from a Hardman Duo player piano for rebuilding. The melodeon is almost complete and I'll take some pictures of that soon. The biggest hassle in the restoration has been reveneering the top with rosewood and getting it to match the "worn" finish of the rest of the instrument. Thank goodness some big jobs are finishing (pay off) and starting (deposit money)....trying to finish paying my property taxes!

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Remember this picture? Well, it isn't circus elephant graves! I do like that answer though.

While I was having dinner at Ellen's Harborside, Dan came in with his sister and sat at the table next to me. We were just catching up on news and the thought came to me to ask him about the mounds. Well.....Dan knows just about everything.....really. He's a very perceptive guy. So, "Hey Dan, I've got a question for you. At the top of Summit Avenue there are these weird stone mounds. What are they?"

And Dan told me.



Want to know?

Are you sure?

Remember, there used to be a hospital, years and years ago.

They are mass graves.

From an influenza epidemic in the late 1800's.

Just Ducky and a Puzzle

First the poor ducky. What would possess someone to keep a duck, all by itself, in a dog crate, in their front yard? This duck lives alone on Main Street. I don't get it. Why?




















And now the puzzle. Can't you solve it? What is this? Located at the top of Summit Avenue on Poole's Hill. This is now on town property. There was a large house located nearby at the turn of the century. Gee, now I have to say around 1900 (rather than the last turn)! The property was given to the town (I don't know when). It became the Leander Haskins Hospital. When the hospital closed, the buildings were demolished. The largest "mound" of granite rocks is about 7 feet tall. I have asked many longtime and life long residents. I have asked at the historic society. Some folks didn't even know these existed. Any ideas?