The Backside of America

It’s Really Big, Sometimes Beautiful and Always Worth a Second Look

Saturday, April 17, 2021

The Honey Hole

From Dave Brigham:

The honey hole is a rare commodity on the backside of America. Often, I know what I'm going to find when I head out to explore with my camera, be it in a city, suburb or small town. I research online, check out Google Maps and sometimes use Street View to get an idea of what I'll see on my adventure. But once in a while, I go in blind somewhere, either because I didn't have time to research, I veered off my planned path or I just felt like roaming aimlessly. And man, when I discover something totally unexpected, something that just blows my mind, I feel a surge of electricity through my body. It's like I've been allowed entry into a secret world.

Recent examples of such discoveries include the Tremont Nail Company complex in Wareham, Mass. (see August 19, 2020, "Nailing a Great Find in Wareham"), and an old bread-company trailer by the side of the road (see August 4, 2020, "A Little Sunbeam").

While recently buttoning up the last sites on my list for a post about the Bemis neighborhood of Watertown, Mass. (see March 20, 2021, "Shining a Light on Watertown's Bemis Neighborhood"), I was checking out Gore Place, a historic mansion and property that dates to a land grant from 1635. The estate, which straddles Watertown and Waltham, was of minimal interest to me, but I shot a few photos from the street and then noticed a small conservation area, with a pond and trail, across the road.

Located next to the Bell Watertown apartment complex, the pond 200 years ago was part of Cookson Farm. In 1834, Theodore Lyman, Jr., acquired the Cookson property and added it to his land, the Gore estate, acrosss what is now Waltham Street. Eventually, the farm house on the old Cookson property was moved to the Gore land, as defense contractor Raytheon had acquired the land where the pond was located, according to a sign at the beginning of the path around the pond. I'd driven by here before, but never noticed there was a pond or path. Since I was on foot, I figured a saunter was in order.

The sign also mentioned an old foundation, so I figured that would be a nice find. I never saw it, but I decided to keep going, skirting along the backside of the apartment buildings. I knew that the Raytheon buildings had been torn down in recent years. I also knew from previous looks at Google Maps that there were old parking lots in between the apartment buildings and businesses such as BJ's Wholesale Club, a Watertown Ford service center and a rhythmic gymnastics outfit. So I wasn't surprised to see some old pipes sticking out of the ground.

But when I saw a bunch of tires in an old parking lot, I thought, "Hmm, maybe I should keep going."

I kept walking. Clearing a small line of trees in the parking lot, I looked up, and....

"Jesus, what is that?!" I said quite out loud. I strolled across the lot, looking around to make sure nobody from the apartment complex or the nearby buildings was going to stop me. I don't know why I get so paranoid. Obviously people go through here all the time (I found out after posting some shots on Instagram that a neighbor had previously discovered this place).

With a radio tower standing sentinel next to the ruins, I figured out pretty quickly that this industrial remnant must have been part of the Raytheon operation.

I don't know why these two structures are still standing, when all other elements of the old manufacturing facility -- which was located largely in neighboring Waltham -- are gone. Maybe the ground underneath is more toxic than the rest of the property certainly was. Maybe because of the pond, this site is difficult to clean up and redevelop. In the 2015 Town of Watertown Open Space and Recreation Plan, there is promise of potential clean-up: "A portion of the remaining site is still potentially available although it has some use restrictions. The remaining approximately 7 acre remnant parcel has potential access to the south end of Walker Pond, but public access is not allowed at this point. This part of the site should be considered for potential public open space acquisition."

Such an acquisition makes a lot of sense, given the apartment dwellers next door. So what exactly did Raytheon do at this site during the 1940s to the late 1990s?

"We worked with the Draper laboratory which was part of MIT, and we designed the guidance systems that went into the polaris and trident missiles. We actually built and manufactured the stuff in the plant in Waltham," said former Raytheon employee Harry Sweitzer in this interview.

Yowza!

"During World War II, Raytheon employees contributed to the war effort. They supplied 80 percent of the magnetron tubes used in U.S. and British radars and developed parts for the crucial proximity fuse in antiaircraft shells, among other equipment," per a Companies History entry for Raytheon. "After the war Raytheon began offering civilian products, the microwave being among the most famous. Raytheon engineer Percy Spencer discovered microwave cooking when, as he stood in front of an active magnetron, a candy bar in his pocket began to melt. Intrigued, he sent out for popcorn kernels – and they began to pop. With that, a new appliance was soon on its way."

Who the hell knew?!

OK, enough history. Let's get a closer look at what turned out to be an outdoor art gallery/graffiti laboratory/public protest venue.

On the pavement was a heartbreaking message that boils down to this: None of us can be free until the killing of black boys and men touches people as much as the killing of white boys and men.

I was ready to check out the gallery.

I was stunned by the talent on display. This was way beyond graffiti -- not that tagging can't be amazing -- and evinced quite a degree of dedication to detail, color, placement and emotion. This was obviously much more than a teen drinking and drugging hangout (although it may be those things, too). I was happy to spy a ghost of the type that I see regularly around Watertown.