Caboose on the Loose

From Mick Melvin:



This past April, I was on a drive to capture some “backside” pictures when I passed a caboose along Route 44 in Mansfield, CT. I didn't know the area, but turned around on Brigham Tavern Rd. (That was for you, Dave.) I pulled into a lot with a deserted building to the left and the wooden, weather-beaten caboose to the right nestled next to some railroad tracks. Being low on time, I only snapped a few shots, but vowed to go back after I found some information on this old car.



I did go back in May to take more pictures, but was having trouble finding information about the old caboose. I found one article about a caboose that sat outside of the Mansfield Depot Restaurant, but not being from Connecticut, I didn't even know if this was the location of the restaurant. Also, there was no real description of the red wooden car with blue-framed windows, so I wasn't sure this was “my” caboose.

Well, I was surprised and delighted recently to see an article in the Hartford Courant about an old caboose being transported from Mansfield, CT, to the Connecticut Trolley Museum in East Windsor. As it turns out, it is “my” red, weather-beaten caboose. The article describes the wooden caboose with the table set with silverware and wine glasses like I remembered. The caboose was spared in a 2003 fire that destroyed the Mansfield Depot Restaurant. The caboose has sat basically untouched since the fire. I'm glad to hear it will be restored and utilized for special events. I'm also glad that this is one time that the backside has a happy ending.

Pig Out

From Dave Brigham:

I ate at the Pig 'n Whistle in Brighton just once, and I have to say, the food wasn't memorable. I recall that it was on Patriot's Day, a Massachusetts-only holiday that also happens to be Boston Marathon day. I went to the race with my girlfriend (now wife), Beth, and my friend, Jeff. Afterwards, Jeff and I went to the diner, and strangely enough the only thing I remember eating was green beans, which I rarely eat. I believe there were mashed potatoes, too. The main course was probably steak or pot roast.

Despite this less-than-memorable meal, I love diners and was sorry to see this place close up a few years back. Web searches have turned up no useful information about why the place closed, or what the fate of the property might be. I did find something kind of cool, though: a "Zippy the Pinhead" cartoon from February 2001 featuring the diner.

I pass by the diner with some regularity, and have long wondered about the significance of the name. Turns out it's a popular name for British pubs (along with more colorful names such as The Dog and Duck, The Slug and Lettuce and The Goat and Compasses), but that the origin of the name is somewhat confusing. Take your pick:

1) Pig derives from drinking vessel names, i.e., peg, piggin or, most obviously, pig. Whistle might come from "wassail," a spiced ale.

Or

2) Servants were obliged to whistle when they went to the basement to get "pigs" for beer in order to prove that they weren't drinking the ale.

Or

3) Pigs and whistles might mean odds and ends.

Cool Your Jets!

From Dave Brigham:

As I noted in the inaugural post for this site more than six months ago, rivers offer some of the best views of the backside of America (see Take Me to the River, 3-1-10). On a recent cruise down the Connecticut River on the Hartford Belle, I enjoyed seeing the wooded banks, the osprey nests and the boats. But I was more interested in the Wethersfield Cove warehouse, which is operated by the local historical society, and, especially, the hulking green slab you see above.

I asked the Belle's captain about it. He told me it was an old Pratt & Whitney jet engine testing facility. "They used to do things like toss dead birds into the engines to see how they held up," he said.

The facility's official name is the Pratt & Whitney Andrew Willgoos Turbine Laboratory. After a little research online, I found out that the lab was built in the late '40s, and that the with help of acoustical engineers, "none of the noisy operations inside the building [could] be heard at nearby residences," according to a 1952 report from the Acoustical Society of America.

I also found a real web gem (to steal an ESPN phrase): a copy of The Tech, , M.I.T.'s official newspaper, from 1956 that describes in -- surprise! -- very technical terms the kind of work done at the facility. Check out the file here; you'll have to scroll down a bit to find it.

As for the dock shown below, it seems as though supply boats tied up there to transfer oil to the facility. The lab also used an incredible volume of water from the Connecticut River to cool the engines and testing equipment, so it's possible that the wharf helped facilitate that process as well.

As usual with these places, there's no way to know what's next. I imagine taking this facility apart and cleaning it up will take millions upon millions of dollars, lots of time and effort and that it probably won't happen for a long, long time.

Smokestack Lightnin'

From Mick Melvin:

On a trip to Pennsylvania to visit my family, I took a side trip to Delaware to visit my best friend. As I drove on Route 72, I noticed a lone smokestack in a vacant lot in Newark. It got me thinking of its origins. On my way back to PA, I took some shots of the structure and noticed the name Curtis embedded on the smokestack. When I returned home, I went to the Internet to investigate and was quite surprised to find plenty of info on this site.



The smokestack is the only structure left from The Curtis Paper Mill. The complex was purchased by the Curtis brothers in 1848, although a mill had existed on the site since the late eighteenth century. The mill was also known as the Nonantum Mill, which refers to the Indian name for an area in Newton, Mass., where the Curtis brothers grew up (an area known colloquially as The Lake, and which is about a five-minute walk from my house -- ed.).

The James River Corp. later purchased the plant, but the mill closed in 1997. The plant was eventually demolished in December 2007, leaving the smokestack as the lone reminder of years past. An effort is under way to save the stack from demolition.

The Privilege Is All Mine

From Dave Brigham:

There's no shortage of scenes like this in the Greater Boston area: old stone walls and dilapidated fences keeping people out (although there are surely more sophisticated security devices as you get closer) of magnificent old-money properties, leaving everything to the imagination.

While I love looking at such architectural gems up close and personal, or in magazine spreads, I find it more interesting and exhilarating to put together a picture in my mind's eye based on peeks through the hedges, up the long driveways or through the surrounding woods. I imagine that everyone who lives in such places lives like the Gatsbys, strolling the grounds in linen suits and Lilly Pulitzer dresses, kids decked out in Polo wear, sipping gimlets and and planning how to maximize profits from their trust funds.

In this case, we're looking at the boundary of a property with ties to prominent WASP families including the Welds, Saltonstalls and Endicotts. But alas there are no penny loafer-wearing fops or Izod-sporting debutantes roaming the grounds. The house and grounds were donated to M.I.T. a half century ago for use as a conference and special event facility, known as the M.I.T. Endicott House, in Dedham, MA.

If you have business there, you can drive right up and check it out. Just don't tell me about it; I've got a better picture in my mind.

UPDATED: Horsing Around At the Old Barracks

From Dave Brigham:

UPDATE: Well, better late than never, I found out what the deal is with these buildings. In my original online searches, I used the following search terms -- "brighton mass. state police barracks abandoned" -- and found absolutely nothing. Just goes to show you, that the Internet will tell you just about anything you want to know, but only if you know what you're looking for.

Here's my revised entry.



Thanks to a guy named Mike Rubino, Jr. opting to make the photos you see here "favorites" on Flickr, I checked out his Flickr page and discovered that the buildings on Western Ave. and Soldiers Field Road in Brighton, Mass., aren't former state police barracks, but rather something more interesting and colorful.

Mike, who runs the M.D.C. Police Photos web site, has a picture of one of these buildings on his Flickr page, under the title "Speedway Headquarters, Charles River Reservation." I read that and thought, "Huh, what the heck is the Speedway?"

A search turned up good information from both the Boston Public Library and Brighton Allston Historical Society web sites. From the BAHS site:

"One of the functions the Speedway served was to accommodate the recreational vehicles that had previously used the Brighton Road (the portion of Commonwealth Ave lying west of Kenmore Square) as well as Beacon St in Brookline for driving and racing horse drawn conveyances. As these roadways experienced increased development and automotive traffic in the early years of the century, the focus of such activity switched to the Charles River Speedway."

In other words, the powers that be saw that this race track was built in order to accommodate speed-crazy teenagers and their horse-drawn buggy races! If the History Channel made a show about this phenomenon, they'd have to call it, "Gone in 60 Minutes."

Anyway, the BAHS site continues:

"The Superintendent's Building was located at the intersection of Western Ave and Soldier's Field Rd. and is the only portion of the complex that still remains."



So that's what we're looking at here. The race course survived into the 1960s, amazingly enough. The superintendent's building and the other buildings were used until about 10 years ago, for use by the old Metropolitan District Commission and the Public Access Board.

The former race track area is now of mixed use, from parkland to office buildings and housing.

In my original post, when I thought that the buildings were former State Police barracks, I speculated that the state would eventually tear down the complex and a) build a proper facility for the State Police, who use an ugly brick building adjacent to this property, or, b) sell the land for retail, office or housing or, c) clear it for a park, which is what the site was originally.

Well, turns out that just three months ago, the Massachusetts Historical Commission filed a National Register of Historic Places registration form with the National Park Service, looking to preserve the buildings, and, presumably, restore them. That would be much more interesting than my original speculations about what might become of the site. Here's hoping the site makes it to the national register.

Going Underground

By Dave Brigham:

I've lived in the Boston area for 20 years, but I've learned more about the Hub of the Universe in the last two years than in the previous 18, thanks to a series of subterranean tours with my subway-loving son. He loves everything about the trolleys -- the screeching sounds they make going around curves, the different models, the types of doors, what the wheels look like, you name it -- while I thoroughly enjoy people-watching and exploring new parts of the city.

I've taken countless photos of trains, tunnels, stations, buskers, funny graffiti, interesting buildings we see when we venture above ground for lunch, etc. But I'm equally fascinated by stuff like this litter-filled stairway that used to take folks down into Park Street station, the oldest subway destination in America, as seen through a grate.



There's so much that doesn't meet the eye when traveling on the T (as the Boston subway system is known, short for MBTA). As you motor along between stations on the Green Line, you spy doors in the tunnel walls -- leading into the basements of certain buildings, so I've heard. There are doors in the stations that only T employees can access, and while most likely the only things back there are bathrooms, I want to see. I want to take a tour of the abandoned tunnels all around the city to learn how the different parts of Boston used to connect underground.

I can't do that, though, but others have. Check out Abandoned Subway Tunnels for some cool black-and-white pix, and this story and video from the Boston Globe.

Here's another photo shot through a grate, this one of a vent shaft near the Government Center T stop.



As much as I've come to enjoy my subway jaunts, I'm always well aware of how old and fragile so much of the system is. Many stations have been upgraded in recent years, and plenty are in the process of being renovated. Below is a shot of a concrete wall, at State Street station on the Blue Line, that has been scraped away, exposing rebar underneath.



I look forward to many more years of exploring Boston and discovering the nooks and crannies that make the subway system special.

Shuttered Island

From Dave Hill:

I took these pictures in April, 2010, on a sailing trip to Peddocks Island in Boston Harbor, when I decided to try out my new dinghy and outboard.



The photo above shows a chapel that was part of Fort Andrews, which was constructed beginning in 1904 and remained as an active military base until the end of World War II. During World War II, the island's base was used, in part, to house Italian prisoners of war. The chapel is probably one of the most prominent buildings visible on the island, and can be clearly seen across the channel from the tip of Hull.



Above is one of the many run-down brick buildings on the island. This one was probably used as officers' housing, and is located along the path that runs south from the chapel along the eastern shore of the island. Had I been less worried about my dinghy floating away with the incoming tide, I would have ventured closer for better pix.

If you followed the path down the hill you'd eventually come to the small community of summer cottages that still exists on the island.



Looking north from just behind the chapel (the white building on the right), the buildings here are the main reception area for visitors who take one of the ferries to the islands today. The whole island, which was used as a setting for Martin Scorsese's "Shutter Island," is part of the Boston Harbor Islands park system. There is frequent ferry service to/from the island during the summer -- it is well worth a visit, in my opinion.

You Don't Have to Be Crazy to Live Here, But It Helps

From Dave Brigham:

In 1995, when I turned 30, my girlfriend (now wife), Beth, joined members of my family in buying me my first mountain bike. She'd bought one in college, and wanted to share her passion for trail riding with me. She still cracks herself up talking about how the first time I rode in the woods, I wore jeans, instead of bike shorts.

We rode a lot initially at the Middlesex Fells, a large (more than 2,000 acres) reserve that spans the towns of Malden, Medford, Melrose, Stoneham and Winchester, just north of Boston. I had a great time exploring hills, meadows, and old fire roads. Over the next 2 1/2 years we rode in a lot of places in New England, but none more intriguing than the grounds of the old Metropolitan State Hospital straddling Belmont, Waltham and Lexington, Mass.

Opened in 1930, the hospital housed mentally ill patients in at least a dozen large, red-brick buildings. The facility closed in 1992 as part of the national movement to deinstitutionalize such patients and move them into smaller hospitals and group homes. For 15 years, the site sat shuttered and deteriorating, a magnet for urban explorers, adventurous partiers and hikers and mountain bikers. In 2007, most of the buildings were torn down to make room for a 387-unit apartment development. Some of the old buildings were renovated and used within the new community.



Above is the administration building, the last structure awaiting renovation or demolition. I remember touring past this building and several others just like it, only larger, with Beth and our friend Mike. We didn't go in any of the buildings, but spent a fair amount of time on a few occasions marveling at the buildings and wondering just what sort of things went on behind the closed doors.

For great photos of the inside of some of the Met State buildings, check this out. To read more about the conversion of the site to luxury apartments, read this.

The photo below is from the Gaebler Children's Center, which opened in 1955 on the state hospital's property. This picture is the only one I've taken while knowingly trespassing. I drove right past the "No Trespassing: Police Take Notice" sign, figuring no cop would arrest me as long as I had my two-year-old daughter with me. The folks at Opacity report that in the time since I took this picture, the site "appears to be under development by Testa Construction and Site Dismantlement; demolition or renovation seems imminent."



For some cool inside and outside pics of the children's center, check this out.

"Just Drop Me Off Here...."

From David Burke:

While taking the most around-about way to the Maker's Mark distillery in Loretto, Kentucky, two friends and I drove past this old house in the rural town of Lawrenceville. Being a passenger, I asked Scott to PLEASE stop and back up. He kindly obliged and I then snapped this one picture from the car window, and we continued on our way.

I was not quite sure as to why I found this house so intriguing. Perhaps because it is not like anything I might come across in New England. It does not seem to be ransacked or vandalized. I wanted to say "just drop me off here and I think I'll start afresh."



Well, I am back home but this little house still stays on my mind.

The Butt Ugly Building

From Mick Melvin:

Driving to work every morning, I had always wondered about the huge, abandoned building located at the corner of Main and Trumbull streets in Hartford. It sits on its own little island in the middle of the city surrounded by parking lots near Route 84. I couldn’t imagine why this building was not scooped up by some developer. I searched the Internet trying to find out what was at this location, but came up with nothing. Much to my delight, I opened the newspaper one morning and there it was, “The Butt Ugly Building.”



I had no idea it was dubbed the “Butt Ugly Building” until that day. It is certainly a fitting name for the structure. When Dave told me his plans of starting this photo blog, this building was one of the first things I thought of capturing for the project. I hesitated to post any pictures because I didn’t know the history behind this butt-ugly building. As it turns out, it was the home of the H. B. Davis department store. The building has been vacant since the store closed 30 years ago.

The building has been in the headlines as of late because of legal problems surrounding the development of the property. The building has played a part in the demise of former Hartford Mayor, Eddie Perez (see 7-8-10 Hartford Courant, "City Moves to Buy Butt Ugly Building"). The new Mayor, Pedro Segarra, has plans to demolish the building next month and rid the city of this long standing eyesore.