Since buying a vacation home on Cape Cod last fall, I've enjoyed exploring the town of Sandwich (see March 6, 2021, "A Historic Life Change on Cape Cod"). The oldest town on the Cape, Sandwich has some amazing historic homes, cool museums and great restaurants and bars that I look forward to patronizing as the pandemic eases. For me, though, finding the out-of-the-way, lesser-known places is what drives me.
Brady's Island fits that bill.
I noticed this sign along Route 6A the first time I visited the town after we'd bought our house. I'd been by here plenty of times in past years, making my way to the fantastic Marshland Restaurant or the cool boardwalk that leads to Town Neck Beach, but hadn't noticed the little conservation area hard by Mill Creek and its boggy environs. Experience has taught me that if somebody's name is attached to a small plot of land such as this one, there's a story behind it.
Named for Hugh Brady, who purchased the island (known at that time at Tobey's Island) around 1870, Brady's Island was once quite a bit larger, and fully surrounded by the brook and marshes. Brady and his wife raised 10 children on this site, which was connected to the rest of the village by a small bridge. Brady worked for the Boston & Sandwich Glass Company, as well as the railroad, according to this article from the Sandwich Conservation Trust, which you should really check out, as it features great old photos and maps.
Sometime in the late 1920s or early '30s, the island was bisected by the newly constructed Route 6A. Known as the Old King's Highway, this route extends from the town of Bourne at the western end, to Provincetown at the eastern tip of the Cape (although in Eastham and Wellfleet, it combines with Route 6). In the 1950s, the Town of Sandwich built a combination police and fire station across the highway from Brady's Island. There was talk of building a new town hall on the site of the present conservation area. The town acquired the land in 1967, several years after the Brady family's former home had been torn down.
The island was saved from development, but not, however, from nature's progress. "For whatever the reasons, the effort to keep the area mowed diminished, and by the late 1990s invasive vegetation, notably Multiflora rose, was well established," John Cullity, president of the Sandwich Conservation Trust, writes in the article linked above. "In addition, the salt marsh edges all around the Sandwich Village inner marsh were filling in with phragmites, a sad loss of attractive views, from stretches of Route 6A and Tupper Road in particular."
There have been efforts since then to rid the island of invasive plant species. Last year, the Sandwich Department of Natural Resources "presented an interesting plan to the public.... Simply described by DNR Director David DeConto: 'We are trying to return the area into a meadow with ample parking, signage, gazebo and kayak dock/launch area. So far we have cleared the area of invasive vines, established the parking area and we will be installing the information kiosk soon,'" per Cullity's article.
As you can see below, there are still vines hanging from trees in the park, which I find very cool photo subjects.
Still, I saw plenty of evidence of clean-up efforts on this small parcel. I look forward to tracking progress at Brady's Island, and further exploring it in days to come.
Waltham, Mass., is known as the Watch City, but prior to today, I'd only published a post (plus an update) about a spin-off company from the industrial titan that gave the city its nickname (see July 8, 2013, "What a Dump: A Different View"). As part of a series about Waltham's industrial past, this post will cover the former watch factory that many years ago was converted to apartments, offices and restaurant space. In the first post of this series, I wrote about the former Boston Manufacturing Co. complex along Moody Street (see May 8, 2021, "Former Mill Complex Now Apartments, Artist Space and Museum").
Located between the Charles River and Crescent and Prospect streets, the former Waltham Watch Company -- aka the American Waltham Watch Co. and American Watch Co. -- is a large, beautiful and impressive site.
The seeds of what became the Waltham Watch Co. were planted in 1830 when, at age 18, Aaron Lufkin Dennison, of Brunswick, Maine, began an apprenticeship to a local clockmaker, per Wikipedia. He next moved to Boston to work for a jeweler, before starting his own business in 1834 as a watch repairman. Two years later he ditched that operation and took a position with "Jones, Low & Ball [where] he worked...until 1839 under master watchmaker Tubal Howe. Here he learned the methods used by English and Swiss watchmakers," according to Wikipedia.
From Wikipedia:
"In 1849, Dennison was approached by Edward Howard, a clock and scale maker from Boston. Howard wanted Dennison to build locomotives but instead went into business with Dennison to make watches. Dennison began to make watch parts for the company in its...factory in 1849. A year later, the company moved to its own factory in Roxbury, Massachusetts.... The first prototype watch was completed in 1850. The company name was changed to Warren Manufacturing Company and released its first watch on the market in 1853. The company...became known as The Boston Watch Company starting in 1853."
(According to a fire hydrant enthusiast who commented on this picture on Instagram, this is a circa-1890 model made by Chapman Valve Manufacturing Company.)
The Boston Watch Co. moved to this site in 1854, after investors had purchased the land and some buildings (nothing from that era still stands). That year, the company produced five watches per day and employed 90 people, per Wikipedia, and was the first factory in the world to produce a pocket-ready watch in the same factory.
Again, from Wikipedia:
"The company 'failed' in 1857 and upon bankruptcy, it was sold at auction to Royal E. Robbins, who reorganized it under the new name Appleton Tracy & Company.... The company was sold back to [original owners] under a new name of The American Watch Company. In 1861, as the country entered the American Civil War, production stopped. [The company] began producing a low cost watch...which was a 'fad' with Union soldiers. They sold for $13 and by the end of the Civil War represented 45 percent of Waltham's sales. After the Civil War, the company became the main supplier of railroad chronometers to various railroads in North America and more than fifty other countries. In 1876, the company showed off the first automatic screw making machinery and obtained the first Gold Medal in a watch precision contest at the Philadelphia Centennial Exposition."
Wikipedia, again:
"In 1885 the company name changed to the American Waltham Watch Company. In 1907 the company name changed to Waltham Watch Co., in 1923 briefly to the Waltham Watch and Clock Company and finally in 1925 to the Waltham Watch Company. The company closed its factory doors and declared bankruptcy in 1949, although the factory briefly reopened a few times, primarily to finish and case existing watch inventory for sale. Several different plans were presented to restart the business, but all failed for various reasons. In 1958, the company got out of the consumer watch business completely and reorganized into the Waltham Precision Instruments Company. All remaining watch inventory had been sold to the Hallmark Watch Company the previous year, and rights to the 'Waltham' trademark were sold to a new Waltham Watch Company incorporated in Delaware in exchange for stock."
Currently, there is a Swiss company making watches under the Waltham brand.
Let's get to the post-watch company part of the story. Again, I cede the floor to Wikipedia: "Following the demise of watch manufacturing, the complex was leased out in portions to light manufacturing industries. Panametrics, a manufacturer of precision equipment, occupied much of the premises until its acquisition in 2004 by General Electric. The complex has since then undergone an environmentally friendly conversion to mixed residential and commercial/industrial use."
From the development's web site: "The...complex...consists of approximately 400,000 square feet of space in 22 interconnected buildings. The Queen Anne and Romanesque Revival style complex was constructed by the Waltham Watch Company over half a century starting in the 1860s. The Watch Factory is characterized by a series of narrow wings with regimented rows of windows designed to maximize daylighting for the detailed production of watches. Watch City Ventures LLC, an affiliate of Boston based developer Berkeley Investments, acquired the property in May 2007. Berkeley then oversaw the multiphase redevelopment process consisting of the rehabilitation and adaptive reuse of the complex into a vibrant mix of office, residential and retail uses with riverfront amenities."
The rear of the building opens out to a large parking lot, as well as a bike path and floating docks along the river. As you can see in the sign above, this area of the river was once home to the Charles River Carnival. Held from 1885 to 1899, and again in 1904, 1915 and 1930, the carnival took place between the Newton Boat Club, just past the factory, and the Moody Street Bridge about a half mile away (for more on the boat club, also known as Nutting-on-the-Charles, see January 27, 2012, "Smoke On the Water"). "During the event, the shores of the Charles River became animated with fires, Chinese lanterns, fireworks displays, illuminated houses and factory buildings...there were canoe races" and a "parade of highly decorated and themed boats," per the sign in the photo above.
The buildings have some nice design details throughout.
In the front of the buliding, there is a restaurant, Brelundi, which offers Italian cuisine for breakfast, lunch and dinner (bre-lun-di).
Keep your eyes peeled for the third and final installment in my series about Waltham's industrial past, in which I will feature the former Atlas Chemical Factory.
I'm a magician. I can turn a quick trip to Staples for ink cartridges and Post-It notes into a tour of cool old buildings, sketchy bocce courts, wacky religious-themed signs for electrical companies and more. Abracadabra!
I recently roamed around the north-central section of Boston's Brighton neighborhood, between Soldiers Field Road, Electric Avenue, Market Street and Faneuil Street.
One of the quirkiest little corners of Brighton can be found at Guido Salvucci's Bocce Court. I shot photos of this place back in the early days of the blog (see November 18, 2010, "Guido's Court").
I hope that in warmer weather people still play bocce here. The courts look a little rough in the winter, and the area surrounding them appears to be a party spot or possibly even a living spot for some homeless folks.
According to an anonymous commenter on the 2010 blog post I referenced above, "Guido Salvucci...was the man who helped build the court, a grandfather of one of my childhood friends named the same, Guido Salvucci of Brighton. Grandpa Guido was a wine maker, Mason, and resident of Brighton. [F]ather of Guido (grandson) is Fred Salvucci, former Secretary of Transportation in the Comm. of Mass. [He] was instrumental in getting funding and planning of the Central Artery Depression, the Big Dig."
Just on the other side of the Mass. Pike from the bocce court is the Stockyard Restaurant, the name of which echoes the history of this section of Brighton as home to acres upon acres of cattle pens and slaughterhouses.
Opened more than 40 years ago, the Stockyard is a local landmark and institution that calls itself a classic American tavern. Shut down for a time in 2012-13, the steakhouse gets very good reviews online. I can't tell you why I've never eaten there.
As for the area's beef-y history, it dates to the foundation of the Brighton Cattle Market in 1776 by Jonathan Winship I (and his son, JWII). The men "put out a call to the farmers of Middlesex County urging them to slaughter their cattle and send the resulting meat supply to the village of Little Cambridge (later renamed Brighton) to help provision General Washington's soldiers," per this Brighton Allston Historical Society article.
"The selling and butchering of cattle became the economic mainstay of the town for more than a century, profoundly influencing virtually every aspect of Brighton's economic, political, and social development. The first stockyard in Brighton was laid out next to the Bull's Head Tavern, an inn that stood on the site of 201 Washington Street, about a quarter of a mile east of Brighton Center," per the article. "The cattle pens probably stood on the flat land opposite the tavern (Nantasket Avenue, Snow, and Shannon Streets cross that acreage today), where a stream provided a convenient water supply for the livestock. The Winship slaughterhouse stood at the foot of nearby Powderhouse Hill (now called Academy Hill), at the southeast corner of present-day Chestnut Hill Avenue and Academy Hill Road."
Brighton remained a vital cattle and slaughterhouse market well into the 20th century.
In 1898, real estate developer Thomas Roddy built the hall below, which carries his name.
Currently home to real estate management firm The Samia Companies, Roddy Hall is located on Market Street, not far from the Stockyard and the bocce courts. MACRIS lists the building's historic uses as "clubhouse, specialty store." I'm guessing there were concerts, plays, balls, parties and other fantastic events on the upper floors.
Directly behind Roddy Hall is where my sports career ended.
Murray Field/Portsmouth Playground is a nice urban oasis in a desert of tightly packed homes and small businesses (and soon dozens of condos in a new building rising on the ashes of the old Lincoln Bar & Grill).
It was here, a few years back, that I last played softball. Here's the quick story: in 2005, when I turned 40 I began playing in a hardball league, after many years of playing recreational softball. I played for five years, managing to hurt myself each year (groin, quads, hamstrings). I "retired" after the 2009 season due to increasing domestic demands (read: two young kids). I'd been playing baseball and softball since I could remember, and was sad to give it up. In 2013 I had surgery to clean out torn cartilage in my left hip. As a result, my quads, hip and lower back on that side of my body became weaker.
A few years after my surgery, two neighbors asked if I wanted to play on their softball team. I said yes. Again I managed to hurt myself every few games, requiring taking a game or two off. On a cold evening near the end of the season, I decided that I was feeling good enough to play. I told myself if I only played infield, I wouldn't have to run as much, thereby reducing my chances of getting hurt. But of course things didn't work out that way. The team needed somebody in the outfield, so I jogged to right, figuring nobody would hit it out there. Well, you know where this is going: a line shot over my head, I turn quickly to chase it down and feel a sharp pain in my left groin and crumple to the ground. "Get up and chase it!" people are yelling at me. I can't. After the play was over, I limped to the bench, pissed off because I knew this was the last time I will play softball. After the game, I nursed my injury and shattered ego at the above-mentioned Lincoln Bar & Grill.
After reliving my worst sports moment, I walked over to Lincoln Street, which runs parallel to the Mass. Pike. There are a few buildings along this street that have caught my eye over the years as I've driven on the highway, so I was excited to check them out. The first one was the former United Soda Fountain Co. building.
I haven't found out much about United Soda Fountain, other than that in 1920, the company filed for a patent for ice-chest construction. United Soda supplied equipment to ice cream shops and restaurants. I believe the company did business outside Massachusetts, as well.
Another place that's more recently out of business is Just The Fax.
I don't know when this place hung it up, nor when it went online. That's all I got.
OK, I also have this:
The former United Soda Fountain building mentioned above is home to CubeSmart Self Storage. There is a nice mural on the front of one of the company's buildings.
A little further west on Lincoln Street is Boston Lock & Safe Co., which touts itself as America's oldest locksmith. The company, or some version of it, was founded in 1790.
Next along Lincoln Street is my favorite building.
I posted these photos on Facebook and Instagram, and got a little bit of feedback. I speculated that this place, which I believe has a few apartments in it, was formerly a store of some sort. One person said it is "tavern-shaped." Another replied that it was a recording studio for a while. I just love the different angles of the doorways, and the glass-block window facing the street. Looks like it could've been a speakeasy, too. I'm sure there are lots of interesting stories about this place.
As much as I love those old buildings, it was a more modern thing that gave me a good chuckle.
Boustris & Sons, Inc. has been around for about a quarter century, specializing in fire alarm and sprinkler testing, inspection and monitoring. I just love the God-like figure on the sign, wielding lightning bolts, with a golf bag on wheels behind him providing more ammunition for him to -- what, exactly? Smite those who mess with fire alarms and sprinklers? Give a jump start to broken equipment? I'm not sure, but that hardly matters.
Having reached the western end of Lincoln Street, I headed across the Market Street bridge and headed west on North Beacon Street until I reached Boston Light & Sound.
This red door was the thing that captured my attention most on the BL&S building, where the company offers "an endless array of the latest digital cinema, audio, and film projection products for sale or rent around the globe," per its web site. "From our early success presenting 'Napoleon,' complete with a live orchestra at the Colosseum in Rome, to engineering and installing digital cinema and film projection systems at the Doha Tribeca Film Festival in Doha, Qatar, BL&S has a reputation for technical expertise and craftsmanship."
Well, hot damn! The company has been in business since 1977.
Steps away from the BL&S building is this trestle that runs above North Beacon Street, parallel to the Mass. Pike.
Amtrak, commuter rail and freight trains run along these tracks, which run from Boston's South Station all the way to, well, I'm not sure how far across the state.
Around the corner from BL&S I found a rare sight in these parts:
You don't see a lot of mobile meth labs on the streets of Boston...no, I'm kidding. I recently binge-watched "Breaking Bad," so sue me. Still, though, you don't see a lot of RV's parked on side streets in Boston. Friends on the West Coast -- L.A. and Seattle -- report seeing these vehicles by the dozens along streets in their cities. People live out of them, moving them every so often to avoid running afoul of local laws that allow them to park in one place for a certain number of days. With the pandemic keeping so many people out of work and threatening them with loss of homes or apartments, this type of thing might become a more regular sighting. I hope not.
In the background of that photo you can see the Frank's Towing lot, along Goodenough Street (love that name!).
Formerly home to Robert's Towing, this lot looks like it's been here for decades. The masonry and fencing work is more than you might expect from a towing business.
At the corner of Electric Avenue and Goodenough Street is Samuels Jaguar Motors.
This place looks like it's still in business, although perhaps just barely.
The last stop on my Brighton tour was the Brightview Landscape Development complex on Electric Avenue.
Brightview has locations throughout the country. I'm not sure what was located here prior.
That wraps up this Brighton post. For more posts about this neighborhood, see:
