Visit to a real old country auction

Both feet into the past…..

This old Walker & Pratt cook stove went for $100.  Women up here baked their biscuits in this oven in the early 1900s.  You can buy a refurbished stove like this for $4000.

            At my age, I’m sure most younger people think I’m really anchored in the past, but Marty and I took a real trip back to an earlier, quieter time last weekend, and we only drove about 100 miles!

            Hillsborough is a beautiful little town in south central New Hampshire, nestled high in the hills, near Pack Monadnock  and Mount Monadnock.

            If you approach it from Concord, or from Weare, NH, you enter a town that looks pretty much the same as in the 1940s.  There’s an old tenement, with about four floors of rooms for low-paid mill workers, perched right next to the Contoocook River.  Downtown is a string of businesses that look so untouched by time you start to think you are on a movie set.  Drive further, and you return to 2013, with modern service stations, Dunkin’ Donuts, and the rest.

            We went to a country auction, held by a New Hampshire auction firm called Wigsten Associates, and it was really country.  No telephone or internet bids, no computers helping keep the tally of bids.  

            The auction was held on a farm on Bear Mountain, and to get there we drove on roads that got narrower and steeper as we got closer, with magnificent views of the countryside, and the elegant, green mountains. 

            We passed several beautiful farms, with contented-looking cows taking in the cool Sunday morning air. 

Crowd came to buy tools, lawnmowers, tractors and antiques.

            At the farm we could see the big striped tent that told us we had found the auction.  Everything on this farm will be sold shortly, including a very stately homestead, built in the late 17^th century, but obviously very much up to date. 

            At the auction they were selling a Farmall tractor, several automobiles, all kinds of new and nearly new equipment like a hydraulic log splitter, and everything you need to overhaul a car, or a tractor.  There were about eight riding lawn-mowers, and a World War II era Jeep with license plates from Andrews Air Force Base in Maryland. There was a huge hose reel on wheels, just the thing to take to fires in the days before fire engines.

All this old buggy needs is a horse.

            There was an old buggy, and the kind of sled you would have used to haul your ice-fishing gear across a frozen New Hampshire lake back in the 19^th century.  There were 18^th and 19^th century farm tools and kitchen equipment, and there were neatly packaged large plastic bins filled with everything a packrat or a hoarder could imagine, including kitchen tiles, a roll of copper for flashing, drain pipes of every size, tools of all sorts, old pictures, boxes of letters from the 19^th century, and a complete set of modern equipment from a professional photographic studio. 

            This auction brought loads of good old boys from the neighboring farms, eager to scoop up the tools, the tractors and whatever else. It brought antique automobile fans to look over the 1971 Ford LTD convertible or the Jeeps.  It brought antique dealers, like Marty, anxious to buy interesting items from a forgotten age, so hard to find these days.  And it brought other bargain hunters of all stripes and sizes.

            An event like this draws a portion of people who look very much as if they had just come out of winter hibernation, including young men and women who seem to think that it is all right to eat until you’re bloated, and then cover all the extra skin with tattoos.

          

This 1971 Ford LTD convertible drew lots of lookers, but here only the man with the white beard is admiring that eight-cylinder 429-c.i.d. powerhouse.   Men at left are gathered around a relatively new military Jeep.

Man with feather in his hat is an antique dealer from New York State.

This family came to buy, and they did indeed.

            The antiques that fascinated us were genuine, Made-in-the-USA goods:  Old 18^th century candle stands, different pieces of equipment for cooking at an open hearth, a large brass trivet for keeping things warm near the open fireplace, loads of old snowshoes and sleds, 18^th century hay rakes, a Victorian candle reflector, and much more.

            Murray Wigsten heads this auction firm, based in nearby Weare, NH.  It was indeed fascinating to watch the teamwork of this all-family operation.   

            Two more generations of Wigstens take the auction business seriously.

            Murray did most of the auctioneering, but his son stepped in (see photo above) to spell him, ably assisted by four children, including this sprite of a little girl, here showing bidders a toy vacuum cleaner.  All four kids did a tremendously energetic, enthusiastic and devoted job of helping show the goods and then delivered items to winning bidders.   One young boy, no older than 10 or 11, drove the riding lawn mowers, one after another, into position to sell, and he wasn’t joy riding—he was a serious worker.

            Call me old-fashioned, but it was really fun to step back and spend a few hours in old America.

Contact me at scoulbourn1@verizon.net

Navy Comes to Rockport

The Navy Comes to Rockport, 2013

Three Naval Academy Sailboats visit Rockport July 12-14, 2013

Three 42-ft. Yachts of the Naval Academy Sailing Squadron visited Rockport this past weekend, as did sailors from Portsmouth, NH and Newport, RI, and the town rolled out the welcome mat for them. 

            Roger Lesch, a retired local police officer, and Sharon Grandmaison, who runs a child care service, are the driving force behind the Rockport Navy Committee, which also includes people connected to the American Legion, local fishermen, the Sandy Bay Yacht Club, the Rockport Country Club, Navy veterans, friends of the Navy and old Naval Academy graduates who live here. 

            It is fascinating to see how Rockporters, and visitors, are attracted to these sharp young men and women sailors and Midshipmen.

            

            While the Navy was in town, we took turns standing “watch” down on T Wharf where one of the boats was open for visitors.  Visitors to Rockport strolled down the wharf to look at all the boats, and we offered them a chance to visit the Naval Academy yacht. 

            They’re usually eager to do it, and clamber down the gangplank and lift themselves on board. 

             The Rockport Navy Committee had a whole schedule for these 30 Midshipmen and their advisors, including volleyball and softball games, cookouts, a lobster feed, breakfasts at the First Baptist Church and at Brackett's, and many local merchants and citizens helped offer Rockport's hospitality.

            The Navy Committee has done this for visiting warship crews in recent years, as well.

Northeast Regional Navy Pops Ensemble as they play a New Orleans jazz number

            Roger and Sharon always do a spectacular job of organizing all the events of the Navy Weekend, and this means getting families to sign up to house the midshipmen and sailors, and organizing for feeding all these hungry young people, including a lot of lobsters. 

            This year the Northeast Regional Navy Pops Ensemble came, and Roger and Sharon set up to give them all a fine lobster dinner before they played. 

            The band with some 38 members, is a brilliantly professional organization, based at the Naval War College in Newport, RI.  It amazed me how, on a hot summer day, these musicians appear in perfect, spotless and crisply ironed white uniforms.

USNA Adult Advisor shows visitors Academy Yacht

            When I had my "watch" on T-Wharf last weekend, Advisor and Skipper Hight Spencer, an adult with more time under canvas than most naval officers, joined two of his  Midshipmen crewmen to show off their boat, and they showed off the cramped spaces for ten midshipmen aboard the boat, and usually there was a conversation about life at the Academy, and the Navy. 

            It’s interesting to talk with visitors to Rockport, and Rockporters, who stroll down and go aboard the Navy sailboats.  They come from all over the world.

USNA boat at sea

            Summer cruises at the Academy have always been very serious training events, with a little time squeezed in for the Mids to see new lands and meet new people. 

Midshipmen spend their first summer at the Academy learning about the Navy, and getting ready for four years of rigorous physical and academic life.  From the day that they are sworn in, their lives are a continuous whirlwind of marching drills, obstacle courses, trips to the rifle range, swimming tests, whaleboat rowing, academic work, running, hiking, sports, more marching, and lots of sweating. 

            The second summer is such a relief, because Plebe year, and all the harassment and questions and drilling and memorizing, sitting on an invisible stool at meals, and other forms of “character building” are done.  The year of academics is done, and it is time to go to sea.

            Today, some Midshipmen spend part of that summer in these 42-foot sailboats, and they practice navigation, and learn the finer points of handling a real sailing craft for several weeks.  After that, they’ll fly to some base in the United States or overseas, and embark in a submarine or surface warship for several weeks. 

            On that ship they’ll learn what enlisted men and women do that makes the ship operate and able to fight.  They’ll learn how to make torpedoes or missiles ready for firing, how to stand deck or diving station watches, how to inspect tanks, how to charge batteries on a submarine, how to fuel ship, how to navigate, and how to clean a head (crew’s toilets).  This cruise as sophomores or “Youngsters” is intended for them to get to see the Navy from the point of view of enlisted men and women.  The next times they go to sea they’ll be studying the role of officers.

            That “Youngster Cruise” of 2013 is not much changed from the one we took aboard a battleship in 1954.  (At least, from my point of view!)

            As soon as the graduating class had received their commissions and diplomas, we boarded troop transports from Annapolis down to Norfolk, where we embarked in a summer training squadron.  My ship was USS New Jersey (BB62), a 45,000 ton behemoth, with nine big 16-inch guns.

Four Battleships Rendezvous off Norfolk, June 1954

            As soon as we were aboard, we sailed out of Norfolk and rendezvoused with three other battleships.  The photo above shows that event, which was the last time those marvelous veterans of World War II ever sailed together.  Besides New Jersey, there were the Battleships Iowa, Wisconsin and Missouri.  Missouri bore a large nameplate that marked the location on her deck that had been the place for the signing of surrender documents by the Empire of Japan that marked the end of World War II.

            When this historic event was over, New Jersey and Missouri, two cruisers, many destroyers, a small carrier, and some auxiliary ships, started our way across the Atlantic. 

            All the way across we worked, and studied, stood watches, and worked at the jobs usually designed for enlisted men, like cleaning compartments and washrooms, painting, loading stores, assisting in taking on fuel, and much, much more. 

            The Jersey crew had just returned from duty off Korea in the Korean War, firing those big guns at North Korean targets. 

            In the evening there were movies topside on deck, and once on the cruise a “Smoker” when men gathered on the large teak deck aft, the fantail, to watch boxing matches between sailors, or between midshipmen.

Crew toilets in battleships resembled the bottom half of a large pipe, or trough. Sailors sat on toilet seats across this half pipe, and sea water flowed through the pipe, and then carried the waste overboard.  At busy times, there might be a dozen or more sailors all sitting on this half pipe.

At some time or other, a wise guy would take a wadded up newspaper and set it afire, and let it float in the halfpipe, upstream of the men sitting there.  You can imagine the surprise as the fire passed beneath the bottom of each man, and each popped up, in sequence.

Holystoning

            Each Saturday at sea was Field Day, with meticulous scrubbing from stem to stern, and midshipmen learned how to holystone.  This was a long-observed job of lining up sailors, barefoot, on the teak decks of the battleship and scrubbing those decks with soapy water until they shone.  The device for scrubbing was a mop handle stuck in the hole of a boiler fire brick.  In a row of Mids, we rubbed the brick back and forth on the deck, sliding and sloshing in the soapsuds, until a senior Chief Petty Officer decided the deck was sparkling clean.  Here’s a video of sailors holystoning the decks of USS Missouri:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dktL8MdZWF8     

After about two weeks of this life at sea, the ships arrived at their first liberty port, and ours was Vigo, on the northwest (Atlantic) coast of Spain. 

            This part of Spain, just nine years after World War II ended, was really poor. Many of the people who came to see our ship come alongside the pier and tie up were barefoot.

            They were poor, but Spaniards showed the sailors and midshipmen aboard the battleship and other ships a marvelous welcome, with dancing in the streets, a street fair, and loads of booths selling all kinds of Spanish food and drink.  I recall a bottle of Spanish “champagne” sold for about one U.S. dollar. 

            We had tours of the town, and trips just a few miles north to the very picturesque and historical city of Santiago de Compostela.

            Our next port was Cherbourg, France, and there the battleship anchored out, and we took ferries to go ashore.  The liberty boats returning sailors and midshipmen to the battleship after an evening in the town could be interesting.

            I grew up in a non-drinking home in Texas, and I had not really been exposed to people who routinely got very drunk and fought with each other, using fists, feet, knives and firearms to maim and kill each other. 

            Battleships were big in every way, and with a complement of 2000 officers and men, there were always a few troublemakers. 

            The Cherbourg liberty boat was really a large ferry that could carry over 200 men, and one evening I was aboard along with a whole load of enlisted men and midshipmen, and some were really drunk.  One rather small, wiry sailor was incredibly drunk, and started picking fights and then picked a fight with a large sailor who was a Shore Patrolman.  The S.P. started to restrain the sailor, who then summoned up the superhuman power only available to drunks, and swung the huge shore patrolmen around the deck like a limp rag.  Then, more shore patrolmen showed up, and soon there must have been a dozen sailors wheeling around, trying to restrain this little drunken man. When they finally had him down, a hospital corpsman appeared and gave the man an injection of something to quiet him down.

            I’ve seen spectacular drunks quite a few times in my thirty-four years in the Navy, but that was my introduction.

            Ashore in Cherbourg, ten years after the D-Day Invasion there against bitter Nazi opposition, there were still signs of bomb and artillery damage, and graffiti about the then current war of French troops fighting at Dienbienphu, in French Indo-China.

            After a wonderful trip to Paris, we were all back aboard New Jersey, and then sailed to Guantanamo, Cuba, where we had a chance to fire those big 16-inch guns and experience life in boiler rooms when the temperature reaches 130 degrees F. or more.

           [NOTE: This Blog first appeared in July, 2011.  It has been updated for this Navy visit.]

Contact me at scoulbourn1@verizon.net

Remembering Hannah Jumper, July 8, 1856

No Friend of Fire Water…    

       

Old Fifth Parish Cemetery, Rockport, MA

            It’s July the 8^th, 2013, and as I walk through this fine old New England cemetery I cannot miss the grave of Hannah Jumper. 

            July 8^th, 1856 is a very important date in our little town’s history. 

           

            I can just see this neat little old lady, with fire in her eyes, as she led a horde of women and three men in a raid on Rockport’s drinking establishments, on July 8^th, 1856.

            Hannah Jumper is buried in our Old Fifth Parish Burial Ground.  She’s famous here because this quiet spinster was a woman of action.  In the middle of the Nineteenth century Rockport had a large number of sailors and fishermen, and a large number of little pubs and bars where the men would hang out.  They’d often get drunk and then go home to their wives. 

Hannah Jumper’s gravestone

This went on for years, but in 1856 the Temperance Movement was gaining steam all over the United States (31 states).  The women in town had had about enough of this, and the preachers downtown helped stir up their emotions.  Local women gathered and decided that on Tuesday morning, July 8^th they would take matters into their own hands.  They trusted no males with their plans, except for three preachers.

Hannah Jumper, courtesy of Sandy Bay Historical Society

http://www.sandybayhistorical.org/Hannah.htm

On that fine summer morning Hannah, age 75, put down her sewing, and marched out of her house down by the harbor, and led a group of angry, determined women and preachers down the street. The women had hatchets under their shawls, and they stormed into one bar after another, smashing bottles, and emptying kegs in the street.  Pub owners and customers alike couldn’t believe what was happening.

The women smashed kegs for five hours. Then they went home to cook supper for their families.

That was the end of drinking in Rockport.  Bars and pubs were outlawed, and stayed that way for 149 years.

Then, in 2005 citizens finally voted to allow restaurants to serve alcoholic beverages. 

  

Hannah Jumper’s house in Rockport.

This photo, shot in 2005, shows sign promoting a vote to restore sales of liquor in Rockport—right in Hannah’s front yard! She actually launched her raid while living in this house, right down next to the harbor on Mount Pleasant St.

            Hannah kept Rockport “dry” for nearly 1 ½ centuries, but in the 21^st century, it really didn’t make sense.  People could buy alcoholic beverages in Gloucester, just 3 or 4 miles away, and they could bring them to restaurants in Rockport.  

            It just meant that Rockport restaurants could not benefit from sales of alcoholic beverages, which put them at a competitive disadvantage with restaurants in neighboring Gloucester and other nearby towns.

           

Peter Beacham

            Peter Beacham, local antique dealer and enthusiastic promoter of all things Rockport, headed the town’s Economic Development Committee, and led a drive to make this change.

            It wasn’t easy.  People just don’t like change, and there were dire predictions of crowds of staggering drunks in the streets, and visions of our children being run over by beer trucks.

            Rockporters went to the polls and voted to repeal the Town’s “dry” status.  Then the measure went to the Massachusetts Legislature, who soon approved the decision, and now, Rockporters can enjoy drinks in local restaurants.

            And Police Chief John McCarthy reports that the roaming, roving drunks haven’t shown up, and no kids have been run over by beer trucks.

                                                                                                            ----Sam Coulbourn

[Adapted from a blog published in July 2012]

Contact me at scoulbourn1@verizon.net