Many of my Ruins of South Branch Park hikes begin at the falls, especially now that the barrier chain is down and you can drive into to the “parking lot.”
On September 2, 1985, a 22-year-old Acres guy fell off the falls, suffered a head injury, and died. There isn’t anything about the accident in the newspaper, but several people I’ve communicated with insist it happened. According to his obituary, “the cause of death is under investigation.” It also reports that he died “at home.” Not sure what happened there, but what a tragedy in such a beautiful spot.
Over the years there had been several mills at the falls, ever since sixteen acres of land “with mill privileges” were granted there to Rowland Thomas, Thomas and John Stebbins, and Francis Pepper in 1651. There was a sawmill there in 1630. There was a gin distillery behind this building beginning in 1808. In 1860 the upper story of the gristmill was converted in to a “cotton batting and twine manufacturer” but it was destroyed by fire that year.
There was a replacement mill in 1861, but this one burned in the early morning hours of September 29, 1914:
The mill hadn’t been in operation in the final two years and was deemed an “eyesore,” according to the Springfield Daily News. Still, it had historic significance because it contained timbers from the original building.
This is the only photo I know of it, published in Pamela Chmiel Banusewicz’s book Close to Home (Sixteen Acres: From Rural Hamlet to Bustling Inner-City Suburb). Speculation in the newspaper hinted that the blaze was of “suspicious origin” and that “it didn’t just burn of itself.”
Gee, an abandoned building next to acres and acres of woods was burned. Could teenagers have been involved?
Anyone else have another photo of this building? Send me an email! Needless to say this structure is even more iconic to Sixteen Acres than the House of Television sign, because an earlier version of the mill is it pretty much what started the neighborhood. Many of the older homes in the Acres and Wilbraham were built with cut wood from the mill. The wood was originally harvested from trees on Wilbraham Mountain and “floated downstream”—when there was more water flowing down the South Branch.
A hydroelectric power plant was supposed to be built at the mill spot, but it never happened. Let’s cross the bridge and check out South Branch Park once again, shall we?
The view from the bridge
In the 1930s the falls and downstream land became a park, and WPA workers built these redstone steps:
The steps going downhill
The steps going uphill
I remember in the late 1960s and early ‘70s there was a great path that ran downhill so you could check out the roaring water, but now you have to really bushwhack your way through the woods to appreciate these vistas:
Hell, there isn’t even an unobstructed view of the falls anymore with all the underbrush.
Along the stream are the redstone underpinnings of a wood bridge that used to connect the east bank with the old Camp Angelina on the other side.
I can’t for the life of me remember when the bridge disappeared. In 1977 there were complaints by campers’ parents of its dilapidated condition, but I don’t know if it was ever fixed.
The above is likely a 1964 version of the aforementioned bridge on a cleanup day. Or some other bridge there.
Anyway, the downstream bridge was eventually burned, according to a Hell’s Acres commenter. “I've been told it was done by a Springfield cop who didn't want people crossing over to ‘his side’ and breaking into houses,” she wrote.
I hadn’t been down to the old Camp Angelina site in a while. Down the hill are what's left of the boards of the old “Siberia” rink:
I hadn’t been down to the old Camp Angelina site in a while. Down the hill are what's left of the boards of the old “Siberia” rink:
It was incredibly cold for skaters down there in the winter, but the name “Siberia” is also a play on “Seibert,” for whom the rink was named. A few years ago, on a wall at the Greenleaf Community Center, I found the old plaque that was saved from the vandalism spree that ended skating there forever in 1970:
There was the old warming hut. Hadn’t seen it in a year. Ominously spooky.
I peeked in, saw the silent guardian at his helm with his Coors Light jacket, and almost shit my pants.
Not sure what that deer head thing is.
The old warming hut had a hole smashed through its interior wall:
As you can see now the folks that go down there from time to time for campfires, smokes, and beverages at one time bashed through the rest of the wall that had divided it into two rooms.
But they couldn’t figure out that it was a supporting wall, so when the ceiling started caving in they had to make their own wooden supports.
By bashing in the wall, they were, in effect, ruining their own hangout.
Flattery will get you everywhere:
There’s a platform next to the rink. Wonder what that was for.
Here’s a new development: a tent!
Nobody lurking inside that sucker either.
Some of the original light poles are used in some bizarre sculpture:
Down the path, where the abandoned Camp Angelina was, the old busted slide and horse ride are still there:
The basketball backboards are a looking a little peaked, but there are fresh strings on the hoops! I think somebody still uses this court!
This small box-like structure next to the b-ball court seems to once have had an electrical outlet:
When I moved back here in 2007 I remember a small building that has since been taken out. I never took a photo! (It was before the blog.) It looked a lot like this building, which was torched in January of 1982:
Camp Angelina was named for the late Angelina Lacedonia, a woman who was committed to protecting the rights of the developmentally disabled after her experience with her youngest child. I’m not sure when the camp was abandoned, but it merged with Camp STAR and is now in Forest Park.
An old stone wall from the area's farming days
Past the camp, hiking back toward the falls on the South Branch Parkway side, here are a couple of ruins that escaped my attention: the remains of a bench, and quarried redstone blocks that prop up a pipe that carries water perhaps from a storm drain on the Parkway.
Here is the South Branch Parkway’s old redstone overlook, which very few seemed to notice until the tornado took out all the trees there in 2011.
The view of the golf course from the overlook
Someone from the Parks Department emailed me last year and stated that there is a citizen who is interested in restoring the Veterans memorial plaque on a redstone boulder near the lookout—just a little east of it on the Parkway. Sure enough, there is the spot where the plaque was cemented or glued on the rock:
He informed me that the volunteer would like to recreate the plaque, but I told the Parks guy I have no idea who might have a photo of it. However, I DO have an idea of who has the plaque itself. It isn’t hard to figure out:
