the bridge 2009
TRANSCRIPT
BridgethetheBridgeSUMMER 2009
Ann Sandford:
The Historic Buildings on
Bridgehampton’s Main Street
RichardHendricksonRemembering OldBridgehampton
RichardHendricksonRemembering OldBridgehampton
Best Wishesfor a successful Rally!
Building a stronger community from the ground up.
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theBridgeANNUAL MAGAZINE OF THE
BRIDGEHAMPTON HISTORICAL SOCIETY
SUMMER 2009 EDITIONEXECUTIVE DIRECTOR John Eilertsen, Ph.D.
BOARD OF TRUSTEES
PRESIDENT Gerrit VreelandVICE PRESIDENT John A. Millard
SECRETARY/TREASURER Andrew SteffanPaul BrennanCarrie CrowleyKevin HurleyFrancine LynchAndrea MadaioKevin MiserocchiRobert MorrowDebbie Romaine
John Stacks
STAFF
PROGRAM DIRECTOR Stacy DermontPHOTO ARCHIVIST Julie Greene
MUSEUM ADMINISTRATOR Mary GardnerCOLLECTIONS MANAGER Nora Cammann
HISTORIAN Richard Hendrickson
ADVISORY BOARD
Barbara Albright, Fred Cammann,Leonard Davenport, Clifford Foster,Craig Gibson, Hon. Nancy Graboski,Jane Iselin, Michael Kochanasz,Weezie Quimby, Ann Sandford,
Meriwether Schmid, Dennis Suskind,Hon. Fred Thiele
RALLY STEERING COMMITTEE
Barbara AlbrightSusan BlackwellPaul BrennanFred CammannTony DuttonEarl Gandel
Chuck MacWhinnieDanny McKeever
Peter MoleAlan PatricofStanley RedlusCecile SmithJohn StacksEd Tuccio
Jeffrey VogelJack Sidebotham, Rally Cartoonist
BRIDGEHAMPTON HISTORICAL SOCIETY
P.O. Box 977 Bridgehampton, NY 11932631-537-1088
www.bridgehamptonhistor icalsociety.orgwww.br idgehamptonral ly.org
C O N T E N T S
From the Editor’s Desk by John F. Stacks.................................. 2
From the President by Gerrit Vreeland .................................... 4
From the Director by John Eilertsen, Ph.D............................... 6
From the Program Director by Stacy Dermont ........................ 7
Richard HendricksonRemembering Old Bridgehampton by John F. Stacks .............. 8
A Modernist in the Old Mill: Agnes Peltonat Hay Ground 1921-1931 by J. Kirkpatrick Flack ...................... 14
The Historic Buildings onBridgehampton’s Main Street by Ann Sandford ...................... 20
Life on the Turnpike:Bridgehampton Today by Kathryn Szoka ................................ 24
A Rally in the Rain by Arthur R. Lange .................................. 28
Jeanelle Meyers and Friendsby John Eilertsen and Stacy Dermont ...................................... 30
BHHS Members and Supporters ............................................ 33
Gift Memberships.................................................................... 36
The Rogers House by Huntting W. Brown .............................. 37
Cover: Richard Hendrickson
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from theEditor’s Desk, John Stacks
It may sound strange, but I find myself frequently thinkingabout Richard Hendrickson. This has been the case formany years, actually more than twenty years, long beforeI was the editor of The Bridge and Mr. Hendricksonbecame the subject of our 2009 cover story.
The conjuring of Richard Hendrickson began not longafter we became weekend residents of Bridgehampton in1987. It did not take us long after buying our house onLumber Lane to learn that the beautiful farm across thestreet was his Hill View Farm and not long after that, welearned that the very land upon which our house was builtwas once a minor sliver of that enterprise.
The Hendricksons of course still lived across LumberLane from our place, but we had only the occasional waveand hello. What brought him to mind all the time wasthat fact that every bulb or seedling or little tree or pieceof privet we stuck in the ground immediately grew intorobust specimens. It surely had nothing to do with ourgardening acumen. The volcanic growth was the resultof the years and years of work by Richard Hendrickson.
As he explained in our interview this spring, Hill ViewFarm was once home to as many as 5,000 chickens, andbefore them, steers and dairy cows. Richard Hendricksonfor years, of course, had spread the voluminous by-prod-ucts of those animals on his land, which meant of courseon what became our land. It was no wonder that HillView Farm was such a success. And it was no wonder thatRichard’s new neighbors had such a verdant lawn andgarden. I must add, however, that the things that grew soabundantly were not just those plants we had selected.Weeds too seemed to enjoy the fruits of Hill View Farmand not every thought I had about my neighbor wasaltogether positive.
Weeds not withstanding, living next to Hill View Farmand to the Hendrickson family has been a special reasonfor us to love Bridgehampton. From our front porch, thehouse and barns stand as a reminder of the old Bridge-hampton, the one that Richard Hendrickson remembers
so well. The agricultural land still stands in corn or grainmost summers. The chickens are gone, but their longhouses are still standing. We have in our dining room abeautifully realistic painting of the farm by Ralph Car-pentier. We acquired it some years ago in case our viewacross Lumber Lane ever changed. The Hendricksonfamily no longer owns Hill View and I don’t know whodoes. But I hope the new proprietor is as good a stewardof the land as were the Hendrickson. I’d hate to have torely on a painting to keep appreciating this remnant of theagricultural heritage we all appreciate.
This year we have three volunteer writers in The Bridge,which I take as a sign that the magazine is a good place towrite about things important to Bridgehampton. The firstvolunteer is J. Kirkpatrick Flack, a retired history professorfrom the University of Maryland, who has now focused hishistorian's attention on Eastern Long Island. He becamefascinated by why a modern artist like Agnes Peltonhappened to live and paint in the old windmill atHayground. The second is Hunt Brown, a descendant ofCaptain James Huntting who was an owner of what wenow call The Rogers House, at the corner of MontaukHighway and Ocean Road. Captain Huntting was a whaleman and Hunt Brown’s profile of his ancestor has somehair-raising accounts of the dangers of that old trade. Itturns out that the captain’s own brother died on one oftheir whaling voyages. The normal practice was to burythe dead at sea, but the captain pickled his brother’s bodyin alcohol and brought it home to be buried in SagHarbor. And third among the volunteers is Arthur Langewho wrote this year’s story on the Classic Car Road Rally,held each autumn by the Historical Society. Arthur driveshis gorgeous MG TC every year, but last year’s rally wasespecially challenging since it was driven in near-floodconditions.
Ann Sandford is undoubtedly the most distinguishedhistorian of Bridgehampton and she has contributedlearned articles about our past each year. This year’scontribution is a survey of the historic buildings onBridgehampton’s Main Street. We always learn a greatdeal from Ann’s efforts.
Also returning this year is writer/photograher KathrynSzoka. Last year her contribution was a set of luminousphotographs of the vanishing landscapes of the East End.This year, she gives us wonderfully observed pictures ofthe residents of the Bridgehampton-Sag Turnpike who aresuch an important and integral part of our community.
All of us at the Bridgehampton Historical Society hopeyou enjoy this year's edition of The Bridge. �
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from thePresident,Gerrit Vreeland
Last year was a year of historic extremes. The economyentered the worst recession since the Great Depression.The stock market responded with a decline of historicproportions. We, the Bridgehampton Historical Society(BHHS), on the other hand, had an historically great year.The Society hosted a record number of events andexhibitions, brought our membership rolls to record levelsand had our largest operating budget. This was truly the bestof times and the worst of times.
While it would be tempting and natural to focus this letteron our success last year, my instincts tell me it is moreimportant to focus on the national events and their likelyimpact on our community. Two years ago Bridgehamptoncelebrated its 350th birthday as a Hamlet. During this longand rich history, we have survived depressions, recessions,wars and natural disasters. Much of our recent history – thelast 150 years – has been influenced by our proximity to NewYork City. The city consumed our wood, ice, crops, andwhale oil. When demand for these products declined ordisappeared because of business cycles or new technologies,the economic consequences in Bridgehampton were very
serious. The recent implosion of the financial service industryin New York, which had fueled our growth for the last twodecades, is yet another chapter in that history.
The consequences of this decline in business activity will beprofound and will endure for some time. All businesses willfeel the affects and many will not survive. Neighbors willstruggle and friends will need assistance. I think this will bringout the best of Bridgehampton.
In response to these circumstances, the BHHS has renewed itscommitment to provide our community with events andexhibitions that will entertain, educate, and offer a perspectiveon the events that surround us today. We started the year withour successful parlor music series. The summer season willbegin with a tribute to Dick Henderickson who is 97. Dick isthe oldest active weatherman in the United States. Later inthe summer, antique shows, craft fairs, and the annual roadrally will provide terrific entertainment for members andguests. Our objective is to give people the opportunity tocelebrate and enjoy the rich and diverse history of our Hamlet.
Finally, in a matter of months we will start work on the restorationof the Nathaniel Rogers House. Getting to this point hasbeen a long and tedious journey. This project will have animportant impact on Bridgehampton, so I hope you share ourexcitement. We appreciate your patience and your support.
I want to thank our growing list of members for their support.If you are not a member please join. Your support will help usimprove our activities. �
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6 theBridge
from theDirector,John Eilertsen, PhD.
History offers a storehouse of information about how peopleand societies behave. Only through studying history can wegrasp how things change and comprehend the factors thatcause change. Only through history can we understand whatelements of a society persist despite change.
Some people study history because they enjoy the informa-tion, while others enjoy the process of learning. At theBridgehampton Historical Society, we welcome everyonewho enjoys any facet of history. Our goal is to encourage thestudy and celebration of our local history, oral history andcultural traditions in order to assist local residents and visitorsalike to appreciate contemporary Bridgehampton in termsof the social, political, economic and religious networks thathave been part of our community’s fabric of life for over threehundred and fifty years.
Museums and historical societies play an integral role intheir respective communities, and we like to think that theBridgehampton Historical Society is no exception. In arecent publication of the Museum Association of New York(a member-based professional organization), it was noted thatNew York State’s Museums are places of awe and discovery,that they inspire appreciation for collections and informa-tion, they reflect the values of diverse communities, theysupport lifelong learning, and they contribute to theeconomic development of their localities.
In fact, there are approximately 1,900 museums and historicalsocieties throughout New York State employing over 17,000people, with almost 12,400 volunteers contributing over9.6 million hours. These organizations are generating morethan one billion dollars into the state’s economy every yearwhile serving more than six million school children withstandards-based programs. And museums and historicalsocieties are a key reason why tourism is the second largestindustry in our state.
BHHS may be a small institution, but we are part of a muchlarger state-wide network of heritage organizations. As wegrow into the future here in Bridgehampton, we know that itwill be your continuing support and encouragement that willdrive our efforts and successes. �
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from theProgram Director,Stacy Dermont
I’m Leading Parallel Lives – History is Stranger than Fiction!
Last spring I was seated at the bus stop in front of the Bridge-hampton Community House, gazing at our museum. Formuseum gazing this is a particularly good vantage point. You facethe Corwith Homestead head-on and in the waning light, youcan imagine it disappearing into the night, like farm houses didwhen their people worked from dawn to dusk.
Ours is a quaint, little house by modern Hampton’s standards.I was pondering why its shape seemed so very familiar to me. Thenit hit me – more than six months after I starting working here fivedays a week (sometimes 8 or 9 days a week in the summer) –I grew up in an 1830’s farm house in North Otto, New York!
People often refer to having “Aha! moments”. For me this was abig “Duh! moment”. Of course this house’s outlines are bonefamiliar to me, it’s basically the house I used to gaze longingly atfrom across the road when I waited for my school bus.
My home was on a small hill and when I waited for my old schoolbus I was often menaced by the neighbor dog, Lad – apart fromthat it’s a continuation of the bus stop experience.
Last year in this journal I wrote about how I might be related tothe local Woodruffs through mymother. I meant to look into that,I really did. The Woodruffs here are very nice people – but,despite doing lots of research into other matters – I just didn’t getaround to it.
This past Christmas while visiting myMom, I wondered aloud ifwe might be related to the Bridgehampton Woodruffs. She said“Of course we are!” and moments later tossed an 800+ page“Woodruff Book” at me. (Possibly only Woodruffs CAN toss suchan item.)
This year I co-curated my first historical exhibition, it was titled“Bridgehampton’s Historic Turnpike”. Our Photo Archivist JulieGreene and I put it together with Collection Manager NoraCammann’s help. We were able to gather quite a lot of informa-tion but we weren’t able to find out much about the McCullinfamily, the long term residents of our toll house.
So myMom casually says, “You know you grew up in a toll house.Sort of.” What?! ‘Turns out that the Fosters who originally settledmy family’s farm operated a toll road behind it that lead to ZoarValley. The road was located well behind the house, but, sureenough, I grew up in the house where the local toll keeper lived.
Frequently as Julie and I did the research toward the turnpikeexhibition, we were pursuing particular questions. More oftenthan not the answers led to new questions. “When was the tollgate removed?” led to “Who was our last toll keeper?” which ledus to the family of Daniel and Anna McCullin. The censusrecords seemed woefully incomplete. The only “DanielMcCullin” listed in the area was a shoemaker in Sag Harbor.
A lot of pieces didn’t seem to fit together. We put just abouteverything we could prove up on the museum walls and hopedthat this exhibition would bring us more answers. It sure did.
At the exhibit’s opening reception Mr. Richard G. Hendricksonshowed up with a wheelbarrow wheel from the turnpike’sbrickyard. Apart from bricks, this wheel is the only known artifactof the brickyards, which were in operation for over 40 years. Mr.Richard H. Hendrickson brought in a WW I era bicycle tocompliment the photos of Ernest S. Clowes, who left the societya number of images of the turnpike. A couple weeks later we gota call from Barbara Rossi who told us she was Toll Keeper DanielMcCullin’s great granddaughter.
Mrs. Rossi was born into the Bill family in Sag Harbor. Shedoesn’t live around here anymore but she has answered somecentral questions and has helped us to draw a fascinating pictureof her family’s history.
Because Mrs. Rossi’s grandmother Arrabelle McCullin waswidowed when her daughter Frances was only two, the two ofthem lived in the toll house with the McCullins. Mrs. Rossi’smother Frances was about fourteen years old when the toll houseburned in 1909.
Frances told her children many colorful stories about life in thetoll house.
Mrs. Rossi’s most vividly remembered stories were about the“gypsies” who were common in that period. This certainly strucka chord with me.
My family always told how they used to worry about my grand-mother, Arlene Woodruff, being stolen by the gypsies when shewas a young girl. They worried about her especially because shewas very beautiful and had brown eyes. I only knew my grand-mother when she was in her 50’s. She was still very beautiful andhad long, jet black hair. As a child I used to wonder if maybe shereally was a “gypsy” after all.
We at the society continue to “tap” Mrs. Rossi, and her sisterThelmaMcLane, for more memories and for family photos. Theyhave been a great aid to our work. Of course the link to this richhistory is their mother, Frances WOODRUFF. �
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by John F. Stacks
Sitting with Richard Hendrickson in the comfortable studyof his home on Lumber Lane is like being in a museum.The room is stuffed with artifacts from the past. There is aRevolutionary War flintlock musket that may have beenused to help defeat the British. There is a double-barrelledflintlock shotgun, exquisitely engraved on the stock and thefiring mechanism from 15th Century France. There areplaques on the wall commemorating his decades of serviceas the longest, continuously working weather observer inthe United States. There are pictures of Richard himself inhis youth. More pictures of Hill View Farm, where he wasborn and raised, when Lumber Lane was still a dirt roadand the fields north from the barn were unimpeded by newhouses and trees and thus offered a clear view of the hillsto the north. A cabinet holds a selection of flintlock pistols.There are old signs from the farm itself.
But this is no conventional museum, because here thepast comes to life as Richard Hendrickson talks about thenearly century of life in Bridgehampton which he hasseen and lived and can recall with crystalline clarity. Hewill be 97 years old on September 12 of this year. Askedto recall an event from the distant past, Hendricksoncloses his eyes and scrunches his face, as if he is strugglingwith his memory. That is not the case at all. His sisterEdith was a student at Colby College in Maine. In 1935Hendrickson drove a Model A Ford roadster up to Water-ville to fetch her from school. “Coming home, we got lostin the fog in Worcester, Massachusetts. The drive took ex-actly 33 and one half hours,” he says, as if the ordeal hap-pened this past winter.
He does not directly address his secrets of longevity.Instead he recalls another story. During a long-ago visit toMiss Nellie Hedges rooming house in Bridgehampton,a guest asked her how she had come to live to a very oldage. “Must be the salt air,” she replied, “because saltpreserves meat.”
Richard HendricksonRemembering Old Bridgehampton
Sniffing the Wind, 1939
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The more likely answer in his case is that RichardHendrickson is interested in nearly everything. “Learn-ing, learning,” he exclaims. “You think you know every-thing, but there is so much more to learn. Never closeyour mind.”
One life-long passion has been the weather. The NationalOceanographic and Atmospheric Administration honoredhim last year for being the longest serving official weatherobserver in the country. Of course he remembers exactlyhow he came to be a weather observer. “It was 1925,” hesays after some face scrunching. “Ernest S. Clowes was afriend of the family and an author. He would come outhere in the summer and in the evening he would walk upto the farm to watch the sunset and play chess. He ran aweather station upstate. Our family was always very for-ward on new things just starting out—new poultry anddairy technology for example. “Clowes thought the farmwould be a great place for a weather station.”
Hendrickson was in high school and took to the ideaquickly. The parts for the station were ordered from Cor-nell University and Clowes supervised its construction.From then on, twice a day at 8am and 8pm, Hendricksonrecorded the high and low temperatures from a pair ofminimum and maximum thermometers which are stillfunctioning in the wooden case in the back of his house.They are the original thermometers. “I have been verycareful,” he says. He still has his very first monthly weatherreport.
He would also record his own observations of the skies andthe weather. Anything noteworthy he would record, a
hailstorm or a late frost or a rainbow. The weather stillmoves him to lyrical descriptions of what he has seen.“Sometimes you get layers of clouds and the sunlightshines through the upper clouds and then through thelower clouds and you get a partial rainbow between thelayers of cloud.” Hendrickson was outside all the time,working the farm, but he wasn’t just feeding chickens andmowing hay, he was learning and watching, enrapturedby the world around him.
The core of Richard Hendrickson’s life has been HillView Farm. It has been sold on, but it still looks much asit did when his grandfather bought it for his father in 1908.And Hendrickson can see it from his back door.
The Hendricksons were of course Dutch and settled inNew York when it was New Amsterdam. Richard’s fatherand grandfather were farmers on Long Island, but not theEast End. That farm was where the Belmont Park racecourse is today. Grandfather Hendrickson very muchwanted his son to get out of farming and go into business.But Richard’s father was in love with farming. Grandfa-ther brought his son out to Bridgehampton and appren-ticed him to another farmer on Mitchell Lane. “That wasto get the farming bug out of his head,” Richard recalls.But the plan backfired and two years later, Grandfatherbought what his son then named Hill View Farm. The
Richard hugging a lamb, 1915
In the backyard with mother Edith Louise, father Howard F.,and children (left to right) Edith , Richard G., and Edwin F.
10 theBridge
price was about $8,000. The house had been built just asthe Civil War ended and there was a barn (still standing)and a corn crib. The fields were bounded by two-railfences –“Three rails was for millionaires,” quips Richard-- with chestnut rails and red cedar posts. Hendrickson stillhas the ax used to shape the posts.
What really sticks in Hendrickson’s memory, however, wasthe outhouse. “It was a four holer, two higher up foradults and two lower ones for children,” he recalls. “Itwas plastered inside and shingled outside. There was afour-pane window with lace curtains.” But what reallymade the outhouses special were the covers on each ofthe seats.
There was a well in the corner of the kitchen, and fromthat well Hendrickson remembers hauling water by thebucket for the livestock. What he calls “street water”came just before World War I and that made possible agreat expansion of the farming operation. At its zenith,the farm had 5,500 laying hens, producing 2,000 chicks aweek. At one time there were also as many as 50 steersbeing fed for beef, and a herd of dairy cattle. “My fatherhad the last heard of Guernsey cows on Long Island,”Richard says. They sold milk directly from the farm. “Dadwas so proud of that herd. He lived it seven days a weekand half the nights.”
Just as his grandfather had wanted his father to get off thefarm, Richard’s mother urged him to find other work.“She’d say ‘Dick, get off the farm. You are not going toamount to anything around here.’” But Hendricksonloved the farm life as much as his father. His innovationwas to expand the chicken operation. He took a course atCornell University on the science of poultry raising andworked with the university to develop the flock over the
The New Ranch Wagon, 1954, with (left to right) father Howard and Richard G, and farm hands Dorsey Walker andWilliam F. Smith
Dogs and Ducks, 1948
years. “The chicken business was growing as fast as cardealers are closing today,” he says. But eventually the 75or so breeding roosters became a problem when the areaaround the farm was settled by non-farmers. “They wouldcrow all night,” he remembers, “you could hear themdown at the flagpole.” Eventually, the chicken businesswas phased out, but the poultry operation left a legacy.The eighty acres the Hendrickson’s farmed must be therichest in Bridgehampton. ‘I can’t tell you how many tonsof manure I spread on those fields,” he says.
The farm was very nearly self-sufficient. “ I’d get sentdown the street to buy flour,” he remembers. “And mymother would buy vanilla extract from a man on abig-sprocket bicycle.” They bought puffed wheat andcorn flakes cereal and sugar, but very little else. He wasa teenager before he was given an orange to eat anddidn’t eat a banana until he was grown up.
It was hard work, but he remembers his whole life as agreat adventure. The first tractor came to their farm in1926. It was an International with steel wheels and steellugs on the wheels for traction. “The only thing not steel,”he laughs, “was your behind.” They still used horses forplowing, however, well into the 1950s. There was alwayssomething new to try. Once they began planting grass andclover seeds from Finland and New Zealand to producean especially dense pasture and thus increase milkproduction. As World War II began, the Air Force sentexperts to examine the fields to determine whether theycould create grass landing strips around the world. Theidea was ruled out in favor of asphalt.
Richard Hendrickson can not talk for long withoutstopping to praise the two women to whom he has beenmarried. His first wife Dorothea died in 1980 and his eyesstill brim when he thinks of her. His second wifeLillian also grew up in Bridgehampton. “I’ve been blessedby two beautiful women.
Two great women and a life on the farm he loved. Heremembers cutting ice from Kellis and Long Ponds to fill
Richard in the upstairs Gun Shop, c. 1950’s
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Prize Roosters held by father and Richard, 1963 In the orchard, 1950
Richard Hendrickson blasting away with one of his many cannons, 1973
12 theBridge
ice boxes before refrigerators. He remembers whenchildren said “please” and “thank you” and respected theirelders. He remembers always going to Sunday School andto church on Sundays. He remembers sitting with hismaternal grandmother, who used a trumpet hearing aide,as she told about her family’s experiences on whale boats.He remembers life before electricity and the automobileand a time when no one ever cursed in public. Heremembers family funerals in the farm house whensometimes they had to take out the windows to removethe casket.
He remembers Fourth of July celebrations on thefarm with fireworks mail ordered from Bellefontaine,Ohio. There were the usual roman candles andfirecrackers. But the best were hot air balloons, made oftissue paper and powered by burning excelsior thathad been soaked in paraffin. “They would fly five, sixhundred feet in the air,” he remembers with a broadsmile, as if it was yesterday and he was still a kid on thefarm in old Bridgehampton. �
A catch of weak fish, 1939
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by J. Kirkpatrick Flack
At the Bridgehampton Historical Society, hanging in thedirector’s office, is an oil painting of the Hay Groundwindmill. It is a romantic rendering of a local scene on anidyllic summer day. Soft white clouds float in a powderblue sky. A meandering path invites one to Hay GroundHill where the mill door is open wide, conveying a senseof welcome. The virtual visitor feels gentle warmth andpastoral harmony. There is nary a hint that at times themill was a less than peaceful, dusty workplace with theever-present threat of miller’s lung and other respiratory
diseases. Rather the observer sees nothing but sunnyserenity, an affirmation of the artist’s decision to make theHay Ground windmill her home and studio.
This painting by Agnes Pelton is of her world in the 1920’s.By that time the windmill had long been a landmarkbetween Bridgehampton and Water Mill, at the crest ofthe rise from Montauk Highway where Windmill Laneand Hay Ground Road met, just below the railroad tracks.The Hay Ground Cemetery was immediately to the eastand the Hay Ground School stood toward the west. Theowner/miller was Maltby Rose, great grandson of GeneralAbraham Rose who, together with Benjamin Rogers,Ethan Topping, and Nathan Cook, built it during the firstdecade of the nineteenth century. For over one-hundredyears it ground locally grown corn, wheat, and oats,producing flour, feed, and meal. Its functional impor-tance diminished, however, in relation to Bridgehamp-ton’s Beebe Windmill; the latter usually operateda couple of months longer during the year and its gristproduction tended to more than triple that of HayGround’s. But then, shortly before Pelton arrived, theold mill unexpectedly took on a different function. Fleet-ing in duration, this turn of events offered Maltby Rose’smill something of a second act.
“Miss [Mary] Pickford and company are stopping at theHampton [Nathaniel Rogers] House in Bridgehampton,”the Southampton Press reported in 1916, during abreak from filming at Hay Ground. Paramount-FamousPlayers, with Pickford as its phenomenally rising star, hadcome out from their Manhattan studio in search of alocation for the opening sequences of Hulda fromHolland. They found it, and the windmill was recast asthe centerpiece of a contrived Dutch street scene. Huldais an immigrant orphan caring for three younger brothersand striving to make her own way in New York City. Theplucky heroine survives a string of melodramaticadversities before finally winning the heart of a railroadpresident’s son. All this after embarking from her Hollandconcoction near the Montauk Highway.
“A Modernist in the Old Mill:Agnes Pelton at Hay Ground, 1921-1931”
“I love it here, and feel happier & more contented than I haveanywhere before... The air & sunshine here are as good as can be...I have my good piano here too, which is a pleasure. I have plentyof nice kindly neighbors so I am not as isolated as I seem...”
—Agnes Pelton, Hay Ground Windmill, 1923
Photo by Peter Papademetriou
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According to Pickford biographers and studies of earlymoving pictures, Hulda did not do much for the star’scareer. She had already signed a contract guaranteeingover $1 million a year, had secured a substantial share inthe Famous Players business, and was fast becoming themost popular film actress in America. Yet her portrayalof the hazards of fortune turning out favorably could beseen as a parable of the windmill. Its stones might nolonger grind consequentially, but it was hardly expend-able. The vicissitudes of change seemed to hold out newpossibilities. Mary Pickford’s use of the mill, promptedby expediency, could be considered a springtime fling. Itsnext adaptation to changing circumstances would provemore complex in both motivation and meaning.
If the past is prologue, a meditation on Agnes Pelton’swindmill experience should begin with her maternalgrandparents. Elizabeth Richards and Theodore Tiltonlived for social reform and moral progress. In the 1860sthe young Brooklyn Heights couple channeled theirevangelical energies into Plymouth Church, where HenryWard Beecher preached captivatingly. Elizabeth, whowas educated at the Packer Collegiate Institute, taught ata school for working class women; Theodore edited theIndependent, an abolitionist weekly tied to the church (itspublisher was a wealthy member of Plymouth’s congre-gation) which gained a wide circulation and influencethat spread beyond the metropolitan area. Early in 1864he was one of the newspapermen, led by New York HeraldTribune editor Horace Greeley, who secretly discussedwith prominent Republicans the possibility of AbrahamLincoln not being renominated. The President, fromtheir perspective, seemed bent upon saving the Union atthe expense of equal rights for emancipated slaves and freeblacks. Two years later he joined with Elizabeth CadyStanton and others in forming the American Equal RightsAssociation, an umbrella organization dedicated to en-franchising women as well as black males—or vice versa.Whose cause should rank first on the radical agenda?Susan B. Anthony was adamant that the goal of women’ssuffrage be the top priority, announcing “that she ‘wouldsooner cut off my right hand than ask the ballot for theblack man and not for woman.” Tilton saw it the oppositeway, declaring “this to be ‘the Negro’s hour.”
Privileging race over gender in the equal rights movementof the Civil War era indicated Tilton’s relationship withFrederick Douglass. Douglass marched in both crusadesand welcomed Tilton’s editorial support. “He rejoiced in...the ‘bright and young’ Theodore Tilton... ‘gloriously andbeautifully’ working for radical reconstruction of theSouth and for the vote for blacks nationwide.” The Inde-pendent endorsed Douglass as a delegate to the EqualRights Convention in 1866. That summer, when advo-cates of a forward moving society met in Philadelphia,
Douglass and Theodore Tilton led the procession toIndependence Hall, arm-in-arm.
Elizabeth Tilton, meanwhile, may have become sexuallyentangled with the Rev. Beecher. A mentor to bothTiltons, Beecher visited their house often—especiallywhen Theodore was away on lecture tours. The charis-matic minister was also a comforter in times of sorrow, andprobably dispensed consolation with great ardor. After theTiltons’ lost a son, he was particularly solicitous of thegrieving mother. Beecher had a reputation and TheodoreTilton had his suspicions. In July 1870, “Libby” admittedto her husband that she had been unfaithful, whereupon“Dory” sued their minister for adultery. The case wasdropped after a six-month trial when the jury failed toreach a verdict. Theodore was voted out of the Plymouthcongregation and Beecher was exonerated. In 1878, Eliz-abeth was banished after publicly confessing her infidelity.
This seemed to confirm what Theodore had been toldprivately by their daughter. “The tale of iniquitous horrorthat was related to me was enough to turn the heart of astranger to stone, to say nothing of a husband and father.”The source of this disclosure must have been thirteenyear-old Florence Tilton. Apparently she inherited herparents’ sense of righteousness. She also shared an artisticinclination with her younger sister Alice, who grew up tobe a painter. Florence played the piano and became amusic teacher. Most importantly, with regard to sensibil-ities that ran in her family, she was none other than themother of Agnes Pelton.
Agnes Pelton’s pedigree partially foretold her developmentas a painter, and subsequent experiences furthered heraesthetic evolution. Pre-World War I New York provideda stimulating setting for personal and professional growth.She graduated from the Pratt Institute in 1900, followingchildhood years in Switzerland, France, and Stuttgart,Germany, her birthplace. Thus she was a New Yorker inher late twenties and early thirties during the culturalripening characterized by avant-garde art, modern dance,the photo-secession, experimental theater, innovativepoetry, dissonant music, little magazines, New Yorkintellectuals, Greenwich Village radicals, and more. Whathas been called “The New Radicalism in America”pervaded her environment.12 “Bohemianism” was anothertrope for the time and place where rebellious ideas andbehaviors flourished in opposition to “Puritanism.”Mabel Dodge Luhan, an ex-socialite who had turnedagainst bourgeois morality, played a part in fueling therebellion by hosting Wednesday evening discussions at herFifth Avenue salon. Pelton attended the “evenings,” andLuhan bought at least one early painting. Luhan also hadsomething to do with the 1913 International Exhibition ofModern Art at the 69th Regiment Armory on LexingtonAvenue, which gave Pelton a momentous opportunity.
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Agnes Pelton was one of the few women painters whosework was included in “the first major exhibition ofEuropean and American post-impressionist artists inthe United States.” Organized by the Association ofAmerican Painters and Sculptors, in conjunction with theinnovative group known as “The Eight,” the Armory Showcelebrated modernism and validated techniques andapproaches that departed from academic tradition.“Before it,” observed one critic, “a painting truly modernwas a rumor.” By openly defying the establishment itgenerated shock and controversy; it also marked America’sartistic coming of age and opened the way for modernAmerican painters—Pelton included.
Another project that she was part of in 1913 helps to ex-plain her ethos. More of Agnes Pelton’s outlook on lifecan be inferred from a novel which she illustrated thatyear. When I Was a Little Girl, by Zona Gale, was a paeanof humanity, virtue, and optimism. The author had beena New York Evening-World reporter early in her careerwhich introduced her to reformers such as Jane Addams,Lillian Wald, and Charlotte Perkins Gilman. She readZora Neale Hurston, joined the National AmericanWoman Suffrage Association, and was a charter memberof the Women’s Peace Party. In 1924 she campaigned forpresidential candidate Robert M. LaFollette and threeyears later participated in the “Save Sacco and Vanzetti”cause. All the while her literary stature grew. Gale wasthe first woman to win a Pulitzer Prize for drama forMissLulu Bett (1921). What must have engendered Pelton’ssympathies, from the outset, was her commitment toconvince readers “that it was their responsibility to makethe world a better place.”
The tale for which Pelton produced seven illustrationsinvolves a group of girls in a midwestern town who enjoya summer of fanciful adventure. They also learn personallessons of living-up to higher ideals. Mary Elizabeth, “whoseemed always to be listening for a voice to tell her whatto do, and trying to find these things in nature” becomesparticularly instructive. She is perceived as one of thevague “poor children,” and there are uncertainties abouther father who “belonged to no business, to no church...he merely lived across the tracks.” Then astonishingly, atthe local 4th of July observance, he rises to read theDeclaration of Independence, concluding with, “we arein danger of forgetting about it—some of us.” Hiscommon eloquence serves as a prelude to the girls’subsequent discussion of King Arthur and the Knights ofthe Round Table:
“’Why couldn’t we get a quest?’ inquired MargaretAmelia ... ‘Girls can’t quest, can they?’ Betty suggesteddoubtfully. We looked in one another’s faces. Couldit be true? Did the damsels sit at home? Was it onlythe knights who quested? Delia was a free soul...
‘Well,’ she said, ‘I don’t know whether they quest, butwe can quest. So let’s do it ... What should we questfor? ‘I wonder,’ said Mary Elizabeth, ‘if it would bewrong to quest for the Holy Grail, now? Why not dosomething beautiful? Why not—why not...”
Pelton’s pursuit of “something beautiful” circled back toMabel Dodge Luhan. In early 1919 she was a guest at Taos,New Mexico, where Luhan had moved two years earlier.Luhan was drawn to primitivism and her rejection of“overcivilization” prompted “leaving it all” in favor ofspontaneous, more intimate personal relationships. Sheregarded sex as communication, the essence of spiritualdiscourse and emotional fulfillment because senses, notintellect, were trustworthy. Regardless of the extent towhich Pelton concurred with this “new thought” creed,she certainly applauded her host’s quest for a simplerexistence, especially her approach to domestic space.“[Your house] was a positive influence in my life... Itsliving freshness and the feeling of light as well as beautyseemed—and was—so new. Beauty, when I had seen it inhouses before—which was seldom—seemed derivative,usually static: But of course you always infuse life intoany place where you are.” Inspired by Taos modernism,Pelton sought beauty and simplicity in her new home atHay Ground.
Metaphysical motives mixed with Pelton’s practical needfor a place to paint. During late summer 1921 the studiospace which she rented in the Village of Southamptonwas sold, forcing her to vacate. According to her so-called“press agent,” Annie Laurie Tilton Hopkins, “the artisthappened along the Montauk Highway and becameinterested in the mill.” What transpired next is unclear,nor is it certain when her search for a studio to rent wascombined with a place to live, but in October Peltonbecame artist-in-residence at the Hay Ground windmill.
Her landlord had done something which, a couple of yearsearlier, would have been beyond his wildest imagination.Maltby Rose was bound to be anxious about the windmill’sfuture. It ceased to operate in 1919 and, having lost itsoriginal purpose, might be rendered a relic of a bygone era.Presiding over the irrelevance of General Rose’s legacy musthave troubled him. But, as theHulda episode suggested, themill could be put to other uses. Pelton’s offer thus madesense from an objective standpoint. Still, the prospect of aNew York City artist living there must have been hard forRose to come to grips with; Pickford had been temporary,Pelton wanted to be a tenant. Eventually he found thisacceptable, which turned out well for both of them.
“I greatly enjoy the mill already and know I shall like tolive there,” she wrote to Rose while her new home wasbeing made ready for occupancy. Preparations mainlyentailed taking out “the big bin” to provide more room,
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“as I need space to paint in.” Water and electricity wentunmentioned; space for painting—and for inward con-templation—were her chief concerns. She seemed satis-fied with the simplicity of the place, and recalling MabelDodge Luhan’s house, its authentic beauty: “... neither younor I mind primitive conditions when there is peace &plenty of another sort—most of the time!” When AgnesPelton said “live there” she meant really live, to experiencethe mill in all its vitality. In a way, for the time being, herZona Gale-like modern quest had been realized.
She clearly enjoyed her neighbors. From scrapbooks andsnapshots in the Agnes Pelton Papers at the Archives ofAmerican Art in Washington, D.C. it is evident that shestruck-up friendships quickly and easily. The Mountsresided closest, just past the schoolhouse; Caroline CookStoots, along Hay Ground Road, was a little farther away;Maltby Rose’s relatives were on the family farm acrossMontauk Highway. Phebe Louisa Brown was the youngersister of Maltby Rose and the mother of Louisa BarnardBrown [Dr.]Smith, a future founder of the Bridgehamp-ton Historical Society. These Hay Grounders drew Peltoninto their web of neighborliness. Bert Mount would helpshould something at the windmill need attention; whenCaroline Stoots’ dog ran away while Maltby Rose wassupposed to be watching him, during her absence, Stoots
cheered-up the old miller: “ ...am glad Miss Pelton is back.I know she will sympathize and understand, being fond ofanimals herself.” Pelton often spent winter months away,and if she returned before the windmill had beenreopened, the Browns would give her hospitality.
Being friends with the Browns made it likely that shewould know the Orrs. The two families sons were partnersin the Montauk Highway automobile garage (laterCorrigan’s) just below Pelton’s studio. Louisa BrownSmith sat for a portrait, and Pelton painted Kellis Pondfor Mary Orr. Apparently Pelton also was attentive to theOrrs’organist daughter. Winifred Orr, for her part, couldhave been inspired by both her visionary artist andmedically-trained neighbors. In the fall of 1930 sheembarked on an educational opportunity at the HenryFord Hospital School of Nursing and Hygiene in Detroit,presumably drawn to some degree by the institution’spromotion of “high ideals for service.” Orr became thejunior class president, president of the Young Women’sChristian Association, and a glee club regular. Her 1933yearbook entry read: “Winifred D. Orr Bridge Hampton,Long Island ‘Music is the inarticulate speech of herheart—sincere, faithful, practical,” a blend of qualitiesgratifying to exemplars back home.
It would seem that Pelton was looked upon as a kind soulwith a good sense of humor more than an embodiment ofmodernism. Made-up nicknames (a 1926 Model T coupewas called “Tallulah”) or the made-up story, in collabora-tion with Ernest Clowes, that she had devised an officialhamlet coat of arms revealed her whimsical side. Pelton’sartistic work that was viewed and acquired locallyconformed to a conventional paradigm. For example, shepainted the Southampton Garden of Mrs. Samuel L.Parrish, several scenes of the windmill, and portraits ofchildren, notably Rosalind Baldwin (Tooker) and BlancheSiegfried (nee Worth). When she showed at theCommunity House in 1923 (“fifty percent of the proceedsof sales during the exhibition will be given to theCommunity House”), or at the mill in 1925 and 1927,visitors admired familiar subjects made with no apparentmystical traces.
At the same time, however, she was tending toward thesurreal expressions on which her reputation wouldultimately rest. During the mid-twenties, alone in thewindmill, she began to paint abstractions of her inner self,musings which yielded Being (1926). There was aspiritual component to her abstract imagery, but notformally so. As she put it: “Though not consciouslyreligious, it may give that impression to those whoconceive of spirit as force.” “Her interest was not inmaterializing the spiritual,” according to a recent study ofmodernism, “but in spiritualizing the material world.”
Agnes Pelton in her studio, 1925. (Courtesy of the Agnes Peltonpapers, Archives of American Art, Smithsonian Institution)
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These modernist impulses emerged in conjunction withher profound sensitivity to the past. Agnes Pelton couldbe taken for an early historic preservationist. “Thewindmill is to be a cultural center,” she noted in 1926,“50% of anything sold in the windmill [is] to go to preser-vation of the windmill.” Moving to the mill meant, inpart, adapting an old structure so that its new utility wouldjustify its existence and increase comunity appreciation ofits heritage value. Maybe Maltby Rose, rememberingHulda, shared this inchoate sense of adaptive use. Heconsented to the addition of a new room in 1924 and, threeyears later, D.R. Halsey built an abutting kitchen. Livingin the present while learning from what went before wasa precept taught by the artist’s windmill.
Charlotte Havens, a Bridgehampton high school student,discovered this when she visited Pelton late one afternoon.The girl was going to see her grandmother, who lived withthe Mounts, and along the way stopped at the windmill. Its“homelike atmosphere” impressed her, as did the “aroma ofa tasty supper” drifting from the kitchen. She admired crys-tal candle sticks, a purring cat in an armchair, and an oldpiano which the artist proceeded to play. Most remarkableof all among this memorabilia was the portrait of TheodoreTilton. His dedication to the timeless principle of equalrights had resonance for both host and caller.
Dane Rudhyar was a windmill guest in whom modernismresounded. A Paris-born pianist, he moved between NewYork (where he associated with Martha Graham) andCalifornia lecturing on advanced interpretations of artand philosophy. Hindu wisdom informed his pursuit ofan eternal Truth that would transcend all belief systems.Subsequently he was drawn to Santa Fe through theurging of Charles Ives, among others. Pelton seems tohave had a particular affinity for him as one whocomprehended the direction of her work. In 1930 she told
him that, “These pictures are conceptions of light—notas we see it in the material world but as the radiance of theinner being. They are produced from that state ofconsciousness from which the creative impulse is a uni-fied expression and solidified to the presentation of mate-rial forms in the natural world.”
Could this “creative impulse” attain its fullest expressionin the Southwest where the likes of Rudhyar and MabelDodge Luhan gravitated? Perhaps Hay Ground hadprovided all the inspiration possible, and now it was timeto engage nature in the desert. Had nature signaled asmuch in 1931 when a March storm knocked the arms offthe windmill? Locating there ten years earlier answeredan ascetic quest.; it served as a fortuitous gathering pointfor her creativity. This was abundantly true during thefinal phase of her stay, when “she produced moredrawings for paintings and completed more canvases thanat any other time.” But the mill might no longer be theideal place for deeply introspective pursuits of beauty.
“Left Bridgehampton December 30th [1931]—tookSunset Limited to Palm Springs December 31 after onenight in New York.”35 Lying ahead of her in SouthernCalifornia was a three decade career of abstract artemanating from her expanding awareness, and a longassociation with the New Mexico-based TranscendentalPainting Group. What remained behind were the oils andpastels, in public institutions and private hands, thatrecall Agnes Pelton at Hay Ground. Prior to her death in1961 the windmill was moved to an East Hampton estate;contextually inappropriate from a strict preservationstandpoint, but at least the old mill was saved. Shedoubtless would have wanted to keep it as the approvingpainting at the Historical Society, an evocation of hertenderhearted feelings for Hay Ground. �
NOTES
1. Robert J. Hefner, The Windmills of Long Island (New York: W.W. Norton
& Co., Inc., 1984), 68, 78.
2. Southampton Press, April 13, 1916.
3. Geoffrey K. Fleming, Bridgehampton (Chicago: Arcadia Publishing, 2003), 16-
17; Marlene Haresign and Marsha Kranes, eds., Water Mill, Celebrating Community: The History of a Long Island Hamlet, 1644-1994 (Peconic, NY:
Peconic Co., 1996), 16.
4. Kevin Brownlow, Mary Pickford Rediscovered: Rare Pictures of a Hollywood
Legend (New York: Harry N. Abrams, Inc., 1999), 20, 29, 122; Eileen Whitfield, Pickford: The Woman Who Made Hollywood (Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 1997), 144, 147; David Nasaw, Going Out: The Rise and Fall of Public Amusements (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1993), 196-197; Tino Balio, ed., The American Film Industry rev. ed. ( Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1985), 154-159.
5. Michael Zakian, Agnes Pelton: Poet of Nature (Palm Springs, CA: Palm Springs Desert Museum, 1995), 15.
6. Debby Applegate, The Most Famous Man in America: The Biography of Henry
Ward Beecher (New York: Doubleday, 2006), 292, 307-309, 363.
15 7. David Herbert Donald, Lincoln (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1995), 531-532; Doris Kearns Goodwin, Team of Rivals: The Political Genius of Abraham Lincoln (New York: Simon & Schuster, 2005), 656. 8. William S. McFeely, Frederick Douglass (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1991), 266. 9. Ibid., 256.
10. Altina L. Waller, Reverend Beecher and Mrs. Tilton: Sex and Class in Victorian America (Amherst: University of Massachusetts Press, 1982), 1-12, 38-63, 103-108;
Zakian, Poet of Nature, 16; Richard Wightman Fox, Trials of Intimacy: Love and Loss in the Beecher-Tilton Scandal (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1999), 11-46; Applegate, Most Famous Man, 367-370, 376-380, 394-399, 454-455; Barry Werth, Banquet at Delmonico’s: Great Minds, the Gilded Age, and the Triumph of Evolution in America (New York: Random House, 2009), 103-108, 177-179.
11. Lois Beachy Underhill, The Woman Who Ran for President: The Many Lives of Victoria Woodhull (Bridgehampton, NY: Bridgeworks Publishing Co., 1995), 154. 12. Christopher Lasch, The New Radicalism in America [1889-1963]: The Intellectual as a Social Type (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1966), xiv-xv; Zakian, Poet of Nature, 31.
16
13. Daniel Aaron, Writers on the Left (1961; repr., New York: Avon Books, 1963), 33; Lois Palken Rudnick, Mabel Dodge Luhan: NewWoman, New Worlds (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 1984), 86; Zakian, Poet of Nature, 26-27. 14. Intimate Memories: The Autobiography of Mabel Dodge Luhan, ed. Lois Palken Rudnick (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 1999), 255; Margaret Stainer, “Biographical Sketch,” Agnes Pelton (Fremont, Calif.: Ohlone College Art Gallery, 1989), 25. 15. Alfred Kazin, On Native Grounds: An Interpretation of Modern American
Prose Literature (1942; repr., Doubleday Anchor Books, 1956), 135.
16. Julia C. Ehrhardt, Writers of Conviction: The Personal Politics of Zona Gale,
Dorothy Canfield Fisher, Rose Wilder Lane, and Josephine Herbst (Columbia: University of Missouri Press, 2004), 19; Harold P. Simonson, Zona Gale (New York: Twayne Publishers, 1962), 36, 41-45.
17. Zona Gale, When I Was a Little Girl (New York: Macmillan Company, 1913), 62, 197, 348-351, 389-390; Zona Gale to Agnes Pelton, August 14, 1913, Agnes Pelton Papers, Biographical, microfilm roll 3426, frames 0084-0087, Archives of American Art, Smithsonian Institution (hereafter, Pelton Papers, AAA).
18. Lasch, New Radicalism, 117-118.
17 19. Agnes Pelton to Mabel Dodge Luhan, November 21, 1938, Mabel Dodge
Luhan Papers, Yale Collection of American Literature, Beinecke Rare Book
and Manuscript Library, box 28 folder 808, 1921-1938, Yale University
(hereafter, Luhan Papers, YCAL). 20. “Story of a Well Known Artist,” Pelton Papers, Scrapbooks, microfilm roll 3427, frame 0343, AAA. 21. Agnes Pelton to Maltby Rose, October 17, 1921, Louisa B. Smith Estate 1996, box B, Letters to Maltby Rose, no. 100, Bridgehampton Historical Society (hereafter, Letters to Maltby Rose, BHHS); Liza Kirwin with Joan Lord, Artists in Their Studios: Images from the Smithsonian’s Archives of American Art (New York: Collins/Design, 2007), 11, 100-101. 22. Agnes Pelton to Mabel Dodge Luhan, n.d., 1923, Luhan Papers, YCAL. 23. Caroline C. Stoots to Maltby G. Rose, June 7, 1924, folder 101-124, no. 123, Letters to Maltby Rose, BHHS. 24. U.S. Census, 1930, N.Y., Suffolk County, Southampton Town, roll 1652, sheet
22, E.D. 52-123, National Archives; School of Nursing and Hygiene, #93.08, p. 9, #98.05, p. 48, Conrad R. Lam Archives, Henry Ford Health System.
25. Zakian, Poet of Nature, 12-13.
26. Pelton Papers, microfilm roll 3427, frame 0317, AAA.
18 27. Margaret Stainer, “Agnes Pelton,” Jan Rindfeisch, ed., Staying Visible: The Importance of Archives (Cupertino, CA: Helen Euphrat Museum of Art, de Anza College, 1981), 8; ibid., Agnes Pelton, 26; Zakian, Poet of Nature, 44-47. 28. Tiska Blankenship, “Agnes Pelton and Florence Miller Pierce: The Two Women Artists in the Transcendental Painting Group, 1938-1945,” Susan R. Ressler, ed.,
Women Artists of the American West, (Jefferson, NC: McFarland & Company,
Inc., 2003), 154; Stainer, Agnes Pelton, 8. 29. Lois Palken Rudnick, Utopian Vistas: The Mabel Dodge Luhan House and the American Counterculture (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 1996), 87. 30. Stainer, Agnes Pelton, note 12, 26. 31. Charlotte Havens, “A Visit to the Hay Ground Windmill,” Literary, n.d., Scrapbook I, folder 5, Pelton Papers, AAA; Zakian, Poet of Nature, 18, 119;Local History Interview Between Ann Sandford and Charlotte Doxey Havens Schug, September 25 and October 22, 2003, transcript in the possession of Dr. Sandford. 32. Blankenship, Women Artists, 15; Zakian, Poet of Nature, 120-121. 33. Stainer, Agnes Pelton, 26.
34. Zakian, Poet of Nature, 64. 35. Pelton Papers,Scrapbook II, folder 1, AAA.
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2414 Main Street . Bridgehampton, NY
fax 631.537. 0356
Phone 631.537.oo81
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by Ann Sandford
This aerial photograph of most of Main Street was taken fromthe west in 1949. Counter-clockwise from the top left are thebank, the drug store, the library (set back); further on are thenewspaper office (after the driveway), Henry’s (the former Basso’sand the second building in from the upcoming corner), Sinclairgas station, Corwith house (foreground); crossingMain Street arethe Candy Kitchen, three residences, the water company, thePresbyterian Church (with the cemetery in the background), theEpiscopal Church, and Muller’s Market (originally, Chester’s, atthe top).
Judge Abraham Topping Rose ca. 18422546 Montauk Highway
This imposing GreekRevival mansion withcupola, pilasters, and anelaborate door frame islocated on the northeastcorner of MontaukHighway and the SagHarbor Turnpike. Itreflects the stature of theRose family that dates
from colonial times. Abraham Rose, the Yale-educated SuffolkCounty judge and a prominent local attorney who engaged in avariety of civic and business activities, was a presidential electorin 1848 and ran four times in this congressional district as the
Whig Party’s candidate for the U.S. House of Representatives.William Gardiner resided in this grand house during hisretirement in the 1870s and ’80s. (See write-up on the HamptonLibrary below).
The mansion was purchased around 1900 by the wealthy busi-nessman Henry N. Corwith, a founder of the BridgehamptonGolf Club, longtime president of the Hampton Library andowner of a large dairy farm in Hay Ground (known as Two TreesStables, today). From its front porch facing the intersection ofthe highway with three other roads, occupants in 1900 would haveseen a pedestrian or bicyclist negotiate among a mule or two. Butthey would more likely watch people dart the horses pulling carts,wagons, carriages and, perhaps, a stagecoach on its way to SagHarbor.
In recent years the RoseHouse has been used tohouse restaurants, inns,and antique shops.Marked on the 1858Chace map; 1902, 1916Hyde maps.
On the same property,north of this house andfacing the Bridgehamp-ton-Sag Harbor Turnpike, is a Dutch Revival residence with abarn structure behind it. Both appear to be ca. 1915 and aremarked on the 1916 Hyde map.
Pharmacy 18982486 Montauk Highway
Drugstores stood on this sitefor over a century beginningin the 1880s. Sivigny’s wasthe last to occupy the centralsection of the frame build-
ing. Currently, women’s apparel shops and a barber shop occupythe first floor. Marked on the 1902, 1916 Hyde maps.
Hampton Library 18772478 Montauk Highway
Charles Rogers (1806-1880) ledthe effort to establish the newBridgehampton library built ina Queen Anne style with gable
The Historic Buildings OnBridgehampton’s Main Street
Photo of the Judge Abraham T. Rose houseat the crossroads; from the west, 1932
Judge Abraham T. Rose house from the south,Montauk Highway, in 2007.
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ornamentation and a hipped roof. Raised in Hay Ground, Rogerswent west as a young man and built a fortune in lead mining andbanking. Later, he settled in Queens and became friendly withWilliam Cullen Bryant, the poet and editor, whom he met at hissocial club. He involved Bryant in selecting the first book list forthe library, donated $10,000 to the project, and served as trusteefrom 1876 until his death in 1880. William Gardiner (1807-1880),Rogers’ brother-in-law, supported the project from the start. Hedonated the land for the building and $10,000. Gardiner had be-come a successful merchant in Manhattan and retired to Bridge-hampton. He served as trustee from 1876 until his death in 1880.
In Judge Henry P. Hedges (1817-1911), Rogers and Gardiner founda civic leader who would lend stability to the new institution forover 25 years. A local historian, Hedges became the library's firstpresident and served until 1904. Educated at Clinton Academyand Yale, he farmed and practiced law in Sag Harbor and Bridge-hampton. He helped found New York State’s Republican Partyin 1856, became a Suffolk County judge in 1865, and served aspresident of the Sag Harbor Savings Bank for 30 years (1868-98).
This energetic resident, born on a farm in Wainscott, the hamletjust east of Sagaponack. Hedges became the first practitioner ofmodern agricultural methods in the hamlet after he purchased a130-acre farm on Ocean Road in 1854. As early as 1866, speakingbefore the Suffolk County Agricultural Society, Hedges describedhis practice of rotating oats and barley with a year or two ofpasture, and exhorted his listeners to “learn where science points,”to track yields in bushels harvested per acre, and to “fertilizeliberally” by applying manure and fish to crops such as feed cornand clover.
Finally, John F. Youngs (1824-1903) served as first secretary andtreasurer of the library for more than 25 years. The Civil Warveteran became librarian in 1877-78, and again in 1898-1903.Youngs lived in the library building and earned a salary of $300,a meager sum even for the times. He was trained as a teacherand farmed. Henry Hedges, his close friend since the late 1850s,wrote that Youngs became the library’s “practical manager andguiding spirit. He...was the animating genius of that Library.”
When it opened in 1877 with over 3,500 books, this institutionheld the largest collection of any library east of Brooklyn. Thebuilding itself had a single floor until 1892 and was equipped withelectric lights in 1916. Both the structure and the grounds haveundergone improvements over the years as the library hasexpanded and updated its services. The library added space in1902, 1913, and 1974. It launched a major restoration andexpansion of its building in 2008 with a planned reopening in2010.
Since 1984, summer Fridays at Five lectures by leading authorshave been held on the back lawn. Marked on the 1902, 1916 Hydemaps.
Basso’s Restaurant ca. 19102402 Montauk Highway
When Frank and CelestinaBasso opened their restaurantduring the Roaring Twentieson Main Street, it quicklybecame a popular pub andeatery, part of a west end ofMain Street that became the social center of the hamlet, day andevening. The restaurant survived both Prohibition (1919-1933)and the Great Depression (1929-1939). Much later, in 1969,restaurateur and pianist Bobby Van occupied the site and for atime it counted Truman Capote, James Jones, Kurt Vonnegut,Willie Morris, and other writers and artists among its clientele. Itremains a restaurant today. The building is in the Tudor Revivalstyle with half-timbering and bracketed cornice. A buildingappears on the 1916 Hyde map.
William CorwithHouse ca. 18402368 Montauk Highway
Currently the Bridge-hampton HistoricalSociety and Museum,this house, a five-bayGreek Revival style
structure with interior end chimneys and a central hallway wasbuilt byWilliamCorwith, scion of a prominent local family whosewealth derived from agriculture and other businesses. Williamfigured prominently in the community as chairman of theSouthampton Town Trustees, a justice of the peace, a trustee ofthe Presbyterian parish, an overseer of the poor, and, for thirtyyears, a town “pound master” with authority for rounding up strayhorses and cattle. After his death, the house remained in thefamily until 1960 when it was bequeathed to the Hampton Libraryand later purchased by the Historical Society. The house is on theNew York State Registry of Historic Places. Marked on the 1858Chace map and the 1902, 1916 Hyde maps.
Queen of the Most Holy RosaryCatholic Church 19142352 Montauk Highway
The Catholic parish between WaterMill andWainscott, bordered on thenorth by Brick Kiln Road and on thesouth by the ocean, was formally es-tablished in June 1913; its churchwas dedicated two years later. F.Burrall Hoffman, Jr., a society archi-tect, combined romantic lines and classical details with an almostGothic pitch to the front-gabled roof. The congregation reflecteda growing diversity in Bridgehampton’s population from the 1880sonward, as the predominately Anglo American community came to
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include residents from Ireland and eastern and southern Europe.About ten percent of the hamlet’s population was Catholic at thetime the church was built. The 1938 hurricane blew off the steeplebut its bell was rescued. It now rests on the east lawn of the church.Marked on the 1916 Hyde map. The rectory to the east dates from1924.
Methodist Church 1833 / 18712247 Montauk Highway
By 1815, early Methodist circuit rid-ers, popular in rural areas andpreaching salvation through graceby faith, drew large followings to thefirst Hay Ground schoolhouse, lo-cated on Montauk Highway west ofthe community of Bull Head. Afterthe congregation had outgrown itsown 1820 building on Ocean Road, its 1833 replacement structurewas moved to this site, greatly expanded, and rededicated in 1871.Its tall east steeple was blown off in the 1938 hurricane but the bellsurvived. A shorter steeple replaced it in 1940. The parsonage atthe same address is ca. 1890. It is shingle-clad with Queen Anne-style motifs including a bracketed entry porch and an oculus(round) gable window. Marked on the 1902, 1916 Hyde maps.
Community House 19232357 Montauk Highway
Epitomizing a sense of civicresponsibility, constructionof the BridgehamptonCommunity House wasfinanced by donations from
the broad population it was created to serve. Eminent historianJames Truslow Adams advanced the original idea, with AmericanLegion Post 580, to honor those who served in World War I. Theywere supported by the Berwind family, wealthy summer residents.It has accommodated organizations from the Legion and the FireDepartment (the Hook & Ladder Company No. 1 celebrated its100th anniversary in 1995) to the offices of the Horticultural Al-liance of the Hamptons and the Bridgehampton Association today.Built in the Classical Revival style with a two-story height entry por-tico. See photo on the cover of this report.
Candy Kitchen 19252385 Montauk Highway
A favorite gathering place since1925, the Candy Kitchen dishesout breakfasts, sandwiches, andhomemade ice cream to localsand visitors alike. Farmers andfirefighters exchange early morn-ing gossip, Hampton Jitney pas-sengers grab newspapers andcoffee to go, and, by noon on weekends, the eatery turns into a seeand be seen venue. The Stavropoulos and Laggis families havemade this a special place in the life of the hamlet. Built of brick-stucco in a triangular plan with a chamfered entry bay.
Henry H. Chatfield Houseca. 19002397 Montauk Highway
Judge Chatfield (1866-1912)served at the first president ofthe Bridgehampton NationalBank, 1910-1912, and as presi-dent of the Board of Educa-
tion, 1908-1912. A niece was Ernestine Rose, founder of theBridgehampton Historical Society. This Queen Anne style househas a turret on the front. An antique and gift shop today. Markedon the 1902, 1916 Hyde maps.
James A. Sandford & Sons’ Plumbing and Heating 19112415 Montauk Highway
In 1882, Sandford purchased the Beebe Windmill (see below) thatwas used to grind feed and meal and eventually moved it from itssite south of today’s Hull Lane to one north of the railroad station.A year later, he partnered with Nathan N. Tiffany (see Rose Hall)from East Hampton to establish a flour and feed company. Thetwo entrepreneurs then built a steam-powered grist mill for flour,not the first in Bridgehampton but the largest. It, too, set east of therailroad station and north of the tracks, a choice location sinceBridgehampton was the terminus for the Long Island Rail Road(LIRR) at the time and a crossroads for people and goods on theirway to Sag Harbor and points east.
One of the three charter trustees of the Bridgehampton Hook andLadder Co. in 1895, Sandford also established the hamlet’s publicwater system. Prior to that, residents relied either on private wellsor water distributed from tanks connected to windmills. In 1906he dug a 300 foot well, set up a gasoline-powered engine, installedair-pressure tanks, and laid out larger mains, developing a pump-ing system which resulted in the BridgehamptonWater Company.The company significantly expanded the water supply as indoorplumbing and lavatories slowly began to replace outhouses. Hislargest customer was not a home or a shop, however; it was theLIRR. His grandson recalled (on a Bicentennial tape): “The rail-road was the principal customer because the quality of the waterdidn’t rust up the tubes in their engines’ boilers.” The elder Sand-ford even invested in a windmill and tanks to pump and store waterat the railroad yard. In 2004, Richard “Dick” Hendrickson, the Na-tional Weather Service recorder for over 75 years and local poultryfarmer, recalled the operation from around 1920: the windmill had“thirty or forty [wooden] vanes in the propeller and pumped waterup into two very large cypress tanks. When the steam engine trainscame by, water poured from a pipe into the reservoir in the coalcar. For a young fellow to see the volume of water that came outof that pipe was a wonder.”
In 1901, Sandford built a private acetylene gas plant, and later se-cured a franchise to pipe the streets. By 1908, gas lamps lit MainStreet. With multiple, growing businesses—a hardware store, aplumbing and heating shop, a water company, a coal yard, and agas business—this entrepreneur required a fireproof structure toprotect his property against sparks from engines in the shop thatcould ignite the wooden store and office. In 1911, Sandford con-structed a large structure of concrete and stucco just west of thePresbyterian Church, where it stands today. Today, the KonnerBuilding leases space to a range of businesses. (It was followed by
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his stucco house next door, now owned by the Konner Co., theconcrete silos for coal at the railroad in 1915, and the stucco CandyKitchen in 1925.) Marked on the 1916 Hyde map.
Presbyterian Churchca. 18422429 Montauk Highway
This building serves the parishwhich worshiped initially as theChurch of Christ in a smallstructure on Bridge Lane west ofSagg Bridge where a granitemarker notes the date 1686. By 1737, as population shifted northtoward Bull Head, a new meeting house was built on SagaponackRoad, east of Ocean Road. The church joined the Long IslandPresbytery in 1794, roughly a decade after the end of the AmericanRevolutionary War. Until 1816, men and women sat divided oneither side of the high pulpit, ranked according to age and status.Today’s church was built by a Sag Harbor contractor and NathanielRogers sat on the building committee. It is in the Greek Revivalstyle and features Ionic pilasters, pointed-arch windows, and theoriginal spire. Marked on the 1858 Chace map; on the 1902, 1916Hyde maps.
St. Ann’s EpiscopalChurch 19102463 Montauk Highway
This church building was aformer golf clubhouse usedmainly by summer residentsand located east of SaggBridge on the north side of
Bridge Lane in Sagaponack. Towed over the ice in 1907 and alongBridge Lane to a site near Ocean Road, the clubhouse became asummer chapel. Moved to the corner of Main Street and HullLane, the improved former “summer chapel” held its first serviceon this site in 1910. In 1915 the parish house (to the rear) was built.The church’s pipe organ was installed in the late 1920s and the bel-fry added in the early 1980s. The rectory to the east, in Dutch Re-vival style, dates from 1915. Marked on the 1916 Hyde map.
Monument 1910Intersection of Montauk Highway,Ocean Road., Sag Harbor Turnpike
The unveiling of the four-sided, spread-eaglememorial to war veterans on July 4, 1910marked the high point of Bridgehampton’s250th anniversary—the settlement date thenpegged to 1660. Made of granite, rising sev-enteen feet, weighing twenty-five tons, andexpressing permanence, it was intended to “stand for the ages tocome as a stone of witness and appeal,” stated the Celebration Plan-ning Committee. Charles Evans Hughes, a former New York gov-ernor (1907-10), was in attendance. He was an associate SupremeCourt Justice at the time. (In 1916, when he became the Republi-can nominee for the presidency, he was in Bridgehampton, at theestate of the Esterbrooks—fountain pen fame—on Ocean Road.He lost to WoodrowWilson). Reverend Arthur Newman, who had
proposed the monument, blessed the event. Civil War veteransraised the American flag and the air resounded with “the shout ofthe thousands who surrounded the Liberty Pole.” Subsequently,local historians discovered evidence of a Sagaponack homesteadbuilt in 1656 and changed the hamlet’s settlement date from 1660to 1656. The 350th anniversary celebration took place in 2006.
Colonial structures and militia activities were centered in the im-mediate area of these crossroads, making this monument area animportant archeological site requiring a survey should any road-work be planned.
Nathaniel Rogers House(aka Hampton House)ca. 18402539 Montauk Highway
Four fluted columns with Ioniccapitals and heavy cornices,resonating ideals of beauty anddemocracy, compliment this house that owes its Greek Revivalmotifs to a local artist, Nathaniel Rogers. The door surround hasside and transom lights. The earliest known remnants of anybuilding to have survived the period of the 1720s to the 1820s onMain Street are part of this house and date from 1824: significantsections of this earlier house became part of Rogers’ project.
Rogers, a well known painterof miniatures with a studio inNew York City, suffered fromtuberculosis and enjoyed hisresidence for only a few years.By the outbreak of the CivilWar in 1861, James R. Hunt-ting (1825-1882), the prominentwhaling captain, occupied thehouse.
Captain Huntting had served as captain of many whaling ships inthe Sag Harbor fleet. He went to sea at 16, became a farmer, andlater a business partner of Nathan N. Tiffany of Bridgehampton.A prominent and wealthy citizen, Huntting sat on the HamptonLibrary board from its start in 1877.
(Note: Years later, Huntting built a house just south of theNathaniel Rogers House on Ocean Road. It reflected the SecondEmpire style, with a stately mansard roof; much altered over thedecades. Demolished October 2008).
In 1895, the Rogers-Huntting residence, by then named the Hamp-ton House, became a boarding and restaurant establishment. Itwas operated by John Hedges and his daughter, Caroline Hopping,who made it a favorite location for summer visitors until 1949.Through World War I, the livery and boarding stable was run byFrank Hopping and primarily served the needs of the summerboarders and owners of summer homes. In the 1920s and ’30s,guests were entertained by the goings-on of the lively young femaleteachers who boarded there. Listed on both the State and NationalRegisters of Historic Places, when restored it will become the of-fices and a museum of the Bridgehampton Historical Society.Marked on the 1858 Chace map; on the 1902, 1916 Hyde maps. �
Postcard from ca. 1905
The Rogers House in 2006
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by Kathryn Szoka
“I love Bridgehampton,” Annie Hopson said during a recentconversation in her home on the Turnpike. Wife of ThomasHopson, Annie found herself in the middle of the Hopson clanwhen the two married in 1942. After World War II ended,Thomas returned from service in the Army, and Annie left herfamily in Riverhead to set up home with Thomas in Bridge-hampton. Annie was born in Ballsville, Virginia and moved toRiverhead at four where her dad went to work on a SoundAvenue farm.
Near to Annie live many members of her extended familyincludingMargaret Hopson with daughter Julie, and brother-in-law Russell Hopson. One rainy Sunday after church service,Julie invited me to her home where four generations ofHopsons gathered for a meal, over twenty in a cozy living room.They were a lively, joyous crowd extending a warm welcome.Julie captured the spirit and family pride, declaring that theHopsons are at the heart of Bridgehampton.
Across the road, another family mem-ber, Brenda Hopson Pinckney, liveswith her husband William Pinckney.William’s parents ran the famousPinckney’s Inn on the Turnpike.Pinckney, too, is a name at the heartof Bridgehampton.
My photographic essay, Life on the Turnpike: BridgehamptonToday reflects life in the primarily African-American neighbor-hoods along the Bridgehampton-Sag Harbor Turnpike. Itcaptures the current community with informal portraits taken inthe home and at community activities at the Child CareCenter, school, and local churches. Working on this project Ihave discovered many names, many people who holdBridgehampton in their hearts and who are proud to share theirlegacy with me for the Historical Society’s archive.
The Historical Society, eager to improve their archive honoringthis community’s legacy in Bridgehampton, asked me to makea “snapshot” of the community at the turn of the 21st century, atime of transition; as development pressures and the march oftime mark shifts in the population. Many, like Annie Hopson,trace their ancestry to Virginia. They migrated north to escapeJim Crow laws and to find better work. Today, some youngresidents are returning south in the face of developmentpressures, looking for better jobs than a primarily resortcommunity can offer.
How remarkable that I would embark on this documentary theyear Barack Obama became the 44th President of the UnitedStates. It has been a privilege to meet and photograph
Life on the Turnpike:Bridgehampton Today
Four generations of the Hopson family
Brenda & WilliamPickney
Annie Hopson
Michael, Dottie & Elijah Jackson
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community members at this pivotal moment in our nation’shistory. The day before the election, I was with Michael andDottie Jackson and their son Elijah. Their anticipated joy waspalpable. The following Sunday I worshipped with the FirstBaptist Church and listened as a member thanked the Lord forthe promise Barack Obama’s victory gave her and all in thecommunity; “Oh Happy Day!” they sang. Then, on Inaugura-tion Day, I watched with the Bridgehampton School studentbody as President Obama was sworn into office. The studentswere rapt and joyful; the adults were, too, black, white andbrown alike, some shedding tears.
The community has opened doors and arms to my efforts. I havewitnessed great joy and sorrow; most heartbreaking, thefuneral of young Pablo Saldivar, a 16 year-old student on thebasketball team who died in a car accident. I continue photo-graphing residents. This exhibition is the first chapter of a workin progress. Future exhibitions and multi-media presentationsare planned. The images, made on medium format black &white film and 35-mm digital color, will reside in the HistoricalSociety’s archives.
A primary emphasis of my photographic career has been tostudy landscapes and communities over time. For over twentyyears I have documented the East End’s rural landscape andway of life in the photographic essays The VanishingLandscapes© series and the Americana series. In the past severalyears, I have worked on essays documenting people in theirenvironment. These include Crooked Knee – chronicling thelast year of my father’s life with dementia, and Through theSeasons at Quail Hill Farm – a year- long study of workers andmembers of the organic Community Supported Agriculturalfarm. Recent projects include Sag Harbor Portraits: the old
timers – residents in their community, and Black & Green –contemporary life in an Irish-American coal mining town ineastern Pennsylvania. My photographic interests have been incapturing the changing nature of community and the environ-ment over time. Life on the Turnpike: Bridgehampton Todayfits naturally within this context.
I encourage community members to contact me to be includedin the documentary. I have received grants from JP Morgan-Chase and the New York State Council of the Arts. I am alsoseeking private donations for my continued efforts. If you areinterested in assisting on the project, please contact me. Enjoythe exhibition this fall which celebrates and honors life on theTurnpike. I love Bridgehampton! �
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28 theBridge
by Arthur R. Lange
It was with some trepidation that I left for the Bridge-hampton Classic Weekend on Friday afternoon with my61 year oldMG. The rain was coming down in buckets andthere was no sign of any let up. For the first time in a coon’sage, I had the top up. Thanks to a liberal amount of Rain-X, and with a bit of luck, I was able to see what was in frontof me. Hampton traffic was not too bad. Winston, theMG,was purring along like a well oiled sewing machine. All wasgoing well.
Once at the Bridgehampton Historical Society, the car waspassed through “Tec Inspection” and given the number 4.There were some pre-war cars on the field and four or fiveother early MG’s. I overheard a few of the owners expressingtheir surprise at my car – it really did have a top! I had run theBridgehampton Classic Rally for over ten years, and no onehad ever seen the canvas up.
The schedule of events was as follows: Friday night, a realdrive-in movie, the racing film “The Green Helmet” was tobe shown (with appropriate refreshments). On Saturday, therally for pre 1969 cars was planned with a drivers’ meeting at8:30 am and first car off at 10:01.53. Following the rally was tobe an awards party. On Sunday, a Concours car show for rallycars and other vintage cars. It all sounded fantastic. Then the
movie for Friday night was cancelled due to rain. The rallywas announced as a “go” – rain or shine.
My wife and I were staying with friends in Bridgehampton.They were also ralliests, so we watched a tape of TerryThomas and Tony Curtis in “Those Daring Young Men intheir Jaunty Jalopies” to keep the mood up. All was still goingwell.
On Saturday morning it was raining harder than ever. Thestop watches, route book, clocks, and MG Club pennantwere all in place, so Winston was off through the mud andflooding promptly on time. Off, off, and away!
My wife was running one of the check points, and my navi-gator was one of my former students. (Experience tells meNEVER to have your wife as a navigator!)
There was a run of fifty miles and many checkpoints beforelunch. All the Hampton locals must have thought we werecrazy to run vintage cars in such weather. It was almost agame with them to see who could splash the most sports carswith an SUV! By the time we got back to Bridgehampton fora fine gourmet lunch, everyone was very wet. Then we wereoff again in a different direction. The rain kept up; if any-thing, it got heavier. The car forded floods, avoided trucks,splashed through mud roads and, to use the old rally term“pressed on regardless.” Only one car, another MG, brokedown and did not finish. Then, back at Bridgehampton, thebar was opened, food served, and awards presented. Every-body has a wonderful but exhausting time.
A Rally in the Rain
2008 1st Place Finishers Richard Weintraub and NavigatorStephen Geller in a 1955 MG TF-1500.
Dan Rowen and navigator Coco Myers finished second in a1953 Siata 208S.
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On Sunday the rain held off. A bevy of very fine cardsshowed up for the Concours. Even the rally cards lookedgood once the mud was scraped off. I spread out my tool kitand showed off Winston. The MG was a big hit. One cou-ple even said, “Gee, doesn’t that look like the car from thatold Terry Thomas/Tony Curtis movie?”
Winston won a silver plate for the engine compartment.Then we all drove home. My old MG had run like a topfor the whole weekend. It took two days to dry everythingout, but it was worth it. A rally in the rain can be fun. �
2008 Road Rally Winners1st place: Car 13, Richard Weintraub and navigator Stephen Geller in a 1955 MG TF-1500
2nd place: Car 11, Daniel Rowen and navigator Coco Myers in a 1953 Siata 208S3rd place: Car 14, Anthony Liberatore and navigator James DeMartis in a 1956 Ford Thunderbird
2008 Car Show Winners:People’s Choice 1st Place: People’s Choice 2nd Place:Robert Schmitter’s 1973 Porsche Martini Stanley Redulu’s 1931 Cadillac 355 Cabriolet
Best American Sportscar: Best Foreign Sportscar:Mary Redlus’ Kaiser Darrin Anthony Narosi’s 1966 Jaguar XK13
Best in Show: Best Hotrod/Custom:Jack Hassid’s 1963 Porsche 356B Chuck MacWhinnie’s 1932 Ford Tudor Sedan
Best Interior:Chuck MacWhinnie’s1932 Ford Tudor Sedan
Best Paint:Jack Hassid’s1963 Porsche 356B
Best Under Hood:Arthur Lange’s1947 MG TC
Anthony Liberatore and navigator James DeMartis finishedthird overall in a 1956 Ford Thunderbird.
Arthur Lange in his 1947 MG Midget TC
30 theBridge
by John Eilertsen and Stacy Dermot
“I call them dolls because I don’t know what else to call them,”explained Jeanelle Myers in a recent gallery talk at the Histori-cal Society. She was describing her handmade human figures,a number of which were on exhibit in the Corwith House thispast winter and spring as a celebration of folk art.
Sometimes starting with old doll bodies, or building bodies fromscratch, she adds man-made hair and ink-stained clay hands,feet and faces, along with artificial eyes and eyelashes. She thenadorns the figures with bits of vintage fabric, buttons, fur, beads,lace, leather, pins, and myriad other objects to create forms thatare imposing but not threatening.
“I’ve always been fascinated with masks and faces. Before I startedon my first series of dolls, I had made up all of the clay faces ondisplay here. I don’t know why I made them or which ones Imade first. They laid around for a couple years while I mademostly pots and other things. I didn’t make these faces to becomedoll faces; they were just going to exist as faces, maybe heads.”
In 1981 Jeanelle made a cloth doll for her niece’s firstbirthday. The creation of this doll began what the artist calls a“28 year hectic trip of doll making.”
Thus far she has created five distinct series of dolls. “I work ona series until I can’t do it anymore – that tells me it isfinished. And I always take a break between series, sometimesmaking a quilt, or two.”
“The dolls in my first series are very complete. I was veryconcerned with making them complete and honest andmaking sure they had everything they needed.”
Her second series contains many figures relating to herchildhood—family members and friends.
Her third series included large “Women Warrior” figures.
At the time of her fourth series, she and her husband wereredoing their house. “I had to work in our garage, so I call thosedolls the “Garage Dolls”.
Her latest series, the fifth, was the first done in her newstudio. “I call my fifth series ‘The White Figures.’ They arearmed with all the potential wisdom of the world, thealphabet. I made twelve dolls in this series, all with premadedoll bodies. The tallest began as a large Barbie doll. Some ofthe others were once Patty Play-pals.”
“I make a body, then go through the clay faces I have until Ifind one that fits or grabs me the right way. I only have three of
the original clay faces left. They are really BIG. I make all ofthe dolls’ fabric bodies and all of their clothing andaccessories. I work on a doll for some time before I decide whatgender it is. Sometimes the gender changes duringconstruction. All of my male dolls are anatomically correct.That’s very important to men. And all of the early dolls havecomplete undergarments. All of their clothing is removable.”
Some of the dolls have names,some don’t. Some of them arein remembrance of particularpeople. “I don’t plan who a dollis going to be ahead of time. If Ihad known that the doll whobecame my Grandma Grum-mert was going to be her, Iwould have given her a corset.Otherwise she’s just like myGrandma – short, curly hairs -which she referred to in the plu-ral because her first languagewas German. Cool blue eyes,not-too-ostentatious jewelry, biguni-boob, a church dress with alittle belt and a little buckle, sliphanging out a little bit, baggynylons, big black ugly shoes. A sausage-shaped woman, verysevere. She would not have shown so much skin at the neck.She was a good Lutheran lady, after all.”
Jeanelle was born in Superior, Nebraska in 1947, and learned tosew from her mother and grandmother. At age five she madeher first doll out of clothespins. Her next doll wascreated in imitation of a small Czech doll that the artist’s greatgrandmother brought with her from Czechoslovakia, when sheimmigrated to the United States in the late 19th century.Building upon her family-inspired appreciation for work and forart, she earned a college degree with a double major in Potteryand Sculpture at the University of Nebraska.
“I like work. I like the idea of work and I like doing it. Tome, work is prayer. I also like to do things for myself, am fiercelyindependent and I can’t stand to owe anyone money, true tomy Lutheran Nebraska upbringing. And I am inspired by theintricacy of so-called ‘women’s work’ - lace patterns and crochet.For a woman to work hard all day and then make the time to dosuch precise, beautiful work is awe inspiring.” �
Jeanelle Myers and Friends
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Cap’t Huntting andthe Rogers Houseby Huntting W. Brown
As restoration of the 19th Century building at the corner ofMontauk Highway and Ocean Road is about to begin, adescendant of one of the early owners of the building recountsthe life of James Rogers Huntting.
One of the first things to say about James Huntting is that hewas a big man. One writer of the time described him this way:“Just figure to yourselves a young giant, seventy-eight inches inhis stocking-feet, two hundred and fifty pounds in weight, andnot an ounce of fat to cut his wind---proportions of Hercules,and the face of man." Another wrote: “[h]e loomed up like Saulin stature, a King.” Still another said his “towering form andbuild always attracted attention and wonder, and marked him asone of nature's chieftains.”
HistorianWilliam S. Pelletreau, one of those quoted above, alsohad other praise for James Huntting. In a short biographyincluded in aHistory of Suffolk County, Pelletreau said in part,
“He was so modest, diffident and retiring that hisconspicuous form caused him embarrassment ratherthan pleasure. He was generous, thoughtful, tender-hearted as a child, full of sympathy for his fellow men,considerate and kind to the unfortunate, inclined tojudge himself more severely than others, strong in hisconvictions, strict in his sense of justice, steadfast inintegrity, sparing of words, a man of both thought andaction; universally esteemed, trusted and loved; thefavorite of children and young men; a tower of defenseto the helpless and unprotected; as much at home inthe chamber of the sick as on the quarterdeck, for hecould use his immense physical strength soothingly andtenderly to the lame and helpless, and with an intuitiveknowledge that seemed marvelous.”
Bridgehampton News columnist Ernest Clowes included thisbrief story about James in his bookWayfaring;
“[P]erhaps the finest story about [James] was told thewriter years ago by a woman who as a child used to buycandy at his store after school. ... She said the otherpeople in the store measured out the candy carefully andgave exact weight for the price but '[ ] Jim' would thrusthis great hand deep into the candy barrel and come upwith it brimming over with sweetness which his littlecustomer got for the same price."
Was this just a large lamb of a man? Given what has been saidabove, you might think so. However, his fame stems more from
his exploits as a captain in the rough and tumble whalingindustry, an occupation known for its lions not its lambs.
In 1825, James Huntting was born in Southampton as thesecond son in a family with strong connections to the sea. Hisgrandfather, Benjamin Huntting, has been credited withhelping initiate the revival of the Sag Harbor whaling industryfollowing the Revolutionary War. The connection didn’t stopthere. His uncles were also whaling merchants and three of hisbrothers were fellow whalemen. Later on his daughter marriedthe son of another Sag Harbor whaleman.
At the unripe age of sixteen James first went whaling and workedhis way up the ranks and by age 23 became a whaling captain.During a later interlude in his whaling career, he engaged inagricultural pursuits and after retiring from the sea he enteredthe mercantile business. He was also both husband and fatherand was active in local civic affairs. He died in 1882.
While the second son in age, James was the first among hisbrothers to go to sea. He shipped from Sag Harbor on thePortland which at the time belonged to the fleet of whalersowned by his prominent uncles Samuel and BenjaminHuntting. Upon return, he shipped three more times on thatship in increasingly responsible roles as boat-steerer, secondmate and finally first mate.
Each of the four voyages lasted between one and two years, andthe interval between each of them was only about 6 weeks.Thus, during the years from 1841, when he was 16 and first wentto sea, through 1848, when he was 23 and returned from thefourth voyage of the Portland, James spent a total shore timebetween voyages of less than 5 months.
During those years at sea he served under different captains andwith varying crews. He traveled to many of the world’s importantwhaling grounds and experienced both the boredom of lifeaboard ship looking for whales and then once located, the ter-ror of chasing down and killing them from a 26 foot whaleboat.
His performances during voyages on the Portland must haveimpressed the whaling merchant community back in SagHarbor, because later that same year (1848), still at age 23, he re-ceived his first commission as captain. The ship he com-
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manded was the Nimrod,managed by Charles T. De-ring, another prominent SagHarbor whaling merchant.
James made several addi-tional successful whalingvoyages before taking his lastand longest, which lastedfour years. During thismarathon trip, this timeas captain of the whaleshipFanny, a notable eventoccurred which to myknowledge has never beenwritten about. According to
the ship’s log, the whaleship was north of Kodiak Island off thecoast of Alaska while on its way back to the seasonal whalinggrounds in the Arctic Ocean. James’s brother, William, thirdmate at the time, became very sick and died two days later.What was his brother the captain to do? It was the practice forcrewmen who died at sea to be buried at sea. But the captainmade an exception. Instead, the log of the voyage notes for June29, 1867 states that: “Carpenter finished the Box. Put Mr. Hunt-ting in it & filled it up With Rum and lashed it on the house.”(My thanks toMr. Paul Cyr, former Curator at the New BedfordFree Public Library for helping decipher the log. Mr. Cyr alsorecalled to me that British Admiral Lord Nelson was similarlypreserved in liquor after his 1805 death at the battle of Trafal-gar.). William’s body continued North to the whaling groundsand was not brought ashore until the ship docked in SanFrancisco over four months later. William’s body was ultimatelyreturned to Southampton and buried with his family in theNorth End Graveyard.
Interesting as these events might be, they are not what latermade Capt. Huntting a legend. Rather it was a book by anotherwhaling captain, William Davis, who wroteNimrod of the Sea.(Recall that in Genesis Nimrod was a mighty hunter, and thename is particularly apt for inclusion in the title of a book aboutthe exploits of whalemen.) In fact Capt. James is reasonablyconsidered Capt. Davis' model for such a mighty hunter.Captain Davis recounts two stories directly naming Capt. JamesHuntting, and two others that are widely and logicallyconsidered to be about him. One or more of these stories havebeen widely retold in other whaling books. I only quote Davis’saccount of the first two stories, which Davis attributes to ashipmate named Posey. Capt. Huntting later affirmed theessence of these stories in a letter written shortly before he died.Rather than paraphrase, I quote extensively from Davis so thereader gets the full impact of the stories and the adventurousstyle in which they were written in 1874.
Davis' first story involves Capt. James's quick-wittedness andstrength:
“When [Captain James Huntting] was a boat-steerer, asperm-whale stove his boat, and rolled it over on him.He came up under it all tangled in the line that wascoiled in the stern-sheets of the boat. He fought like agiant to throw off the deadly coil. It was about his body,his arms, and his neck. It was for dear life that he wasworking, and he knew the odds were against him. Hegot rid of the line, as he thought, and had got a breath ofthe blessed air and a glance at God's sunlight, when hewas jerked out of the sight of his horrified shipmates. Abight of the line, yet attached to the sounding whale,was around his ankle, and he bid good-bye to this worldas he was plunged into the deep sea. Yet he was alert totake instant advantage of a slack in the speed of thewhale. Drawing himself forward by the line, with hissheath-knife he severed the cord beyond the entangledfoot, and rose to the surface, exhausted by the time hehad been under and the lacerating wounds inflicted bythe tight-strained line. The boats picked him up. Noone on board knew any more of surgery than he did. So,with help from willing but unskilled hands, the brokenankle was patched up after a fashion, and kind Naturehealed it, with the bones unshipped and out of place,leaving him nearly as good a man as he was before hisawful plunge.
In Davis' book, the second story about Capt. James directlyfollows the first. It is a little gristly but gives an idea of both hisfortitude and the primitive nature of medicine aboard a mid19th century Sag Harbor whaleship.
“Another instance of wonderful preservation from acruel death by the line occurred in his experience manyyears after this, and goes to show how the whaleman iseducated to perform, and inured to suffer in the sternvicissitudes of the chase. By somemishap the line kinkedin the boat and a man was caught and jerked from theboat by the running whale. After being drawn with fright-ful speed some one hundred and twenty-five fathomsfrom the boat, he was released by his limbs giving way tothe strain. Thus freed, and almost unconscious, he roseto the surface and was picked up and carried on boardthe ship. On examination, it was found that a portion ofthe hand, including four fingers, had been torn away,and the foot sawed through at the ankle, leaving only thegreat tendon and the heel suspended to the laceratedstump. From the knee downward the muscular fleshhad been rasped away by the line, leaving the protrudingbone enveloped in a tangled mat of tendons and bleed-ing arteries. Saved from drowning, the man seemedlikely to meet a more cruel death, unless some one hadthe nerve to perform the necessary amputation. At thattime the New Bedford ships were the only ones that car-ried surgical instruments to meet such a case. But Cap-tain Jim was not the man to allow any one to perish on
Capt. James R. Huntting
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slight provocation. He had his carving-knife, carpenter'ssaw, and a fish-hook. The injury was so frightful, andthe poor fellow's groans and cries so touching, that sev-eral of the crew fainted in their endeavors to aid the cap-tain in the operation, and others sickened and turnedaway from the sight. Unaided, the captain then lashedhis screaming patient on the carpenter's bench, ampu-tated the leg, and dressed the hand as best he could."
Taking his whaling experiences together with his life ashore,Capt. James was clearly a man of stature. Not surprisingly, afterreflecting on the many facets of his life, an obituary in the SagHarbor Express ended with these lines:
“In the death of Capt. Huntting the whole communityfeels a deep loss, as men like him can illy (sic) bespared.” �
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