Random Stuff, Part 8

In my endless quest for photos of the now-drained pond that was Putnam’s Puddle, I haven’t uncovered any good pictures from the shore, but I recently found a great site: historicaerials.com. Just plug in the address and you have plenty of birds-eye views to choose from. Just choose the year, going back to 1957.

And above is the pond back in ‘57—please ignore the annoying watermarks. At the shore on the bottom of the middle of the pond you can see the mushroom-shaped swimming beach that protruded across from the end of Maebeth Street:

If you follow Sunrise Terrace going right from the intersection of Maebeth Street, you can see where the housing across the street from the pond ends at Aldrew Terrace—there are woods before the HUD houses were built on Sunrise.

Interestingly, in some aerials taken of The Puddle in the 1970s, the pond is difficult to see because of all the algae. The contrast is clear in the 1950s and you can see the water—less so in the ‘70s, when the water is obscured by the muck. Yes, just as I remember it—very mucky at times—especially in the summer.

Check out the lack of tree cover on the side streets in 1957—this was all farmland until the Acres post-war housing boom and the planted trees in the yards are still small.

In 1957, Breckwood Pond (above) sure was a lot larger, and longer than the 2023 version (below)—extending all the way on the right to the end of the Gateway Village apartments below it. Compare it to micro version of a pond it is now:

Here is a 1971 aerial of Friendly Field, the baseball diamond that is now a parking lot next to the Sixteen Acres Library. You can see the roofs of the dugouts. The arrow is pointing at the third-baseline dugout.

You can see the square, four-way HOT sign atop the old House of Television building in The Center:

The Brunton Triangle in Hungry Hill—known as Bottle Park in the old days, a nickname that probably dates back to the Great Depression—is where neighborhood alcoholics used to drink all day.

 

It’s difficult to imagine such blatant boozing going on at such a major intersection, Liberty and Carew—the heart of Hungry Hill—but after Prohibition ended and unemployment was still high, there was lots of imbibing in public, especially among down-and-outers.

 

Those were desperate times. My father, who was from Hungry Hill, once related the story of seeing a woman and her children sobbing on the sidewalk among their furniture and all their other possessions after being evicted during the Depression. He didn’t say where they ended up—presumably with relatives or worse: the dreaded “poor house.”

I didn’t think there were any old Hangar One posters hanging around the internet, but here’s one featuring the Incredible Casuals, a group I saw a zillion times as the house band at the Beachcomber in Wellfleet. I go into the history of Hangar One in another post.

 

Hemlock Hill was a ski area in Palmer, run by the Sasur family at the corner of Three Rivers Road and Springfield Street (Route 20). How had I never heard of this place when I was growing up? It was open in 1968 until the early 1970s (Another site says 1964 to 1977, and yet another reports the first trail was completed in 1966.) I didn’t start skiing at Mount Tom until around 1976 or 1977, but I might have started skiing earlier if my folks had brought me to this place in Palmer, because it was closer, a less intimidating learning experience (no lifts—just four rope tows), and cost only $1.50 a kid for night skiing, although only the bottom part was illuminated. A season pass was $16!

 

There was no snowmaking, which undoubtedly helped doom the place, because we all know the winters have gradually become milder, although they were plenty snow-filled here in the late ‘70s. The owner would simply haul snow uphill with a snowcat and dump it on the slopes.

 

You can plainly see three rope tows in the map below, but there was also a small one, added in 1972, that took skiers to the peak, known in Palmer as Baptist Hill:

 

Here is an aerial view in the springtime when the place was in operation:

 

A view now with the vantage point flipped (Route 20 is at the top instead of the bottom). You can still see some of the remains of the lower trails, divided by two vertical rows of trees, although much of it has filled in. The skating pond is on the upper left:

 

Take a look the next time you’re driving by—you can still see the bottom of one of the main trails to the left of trailer:

 

It was finally closed because of high insurance liability and skyrocketing tax rates. In 2013, John Sasur, the owner, actually hiked up and skied down one of the trails. Spoiler alert: he wipes out at the end!

The old Airline Drive-In sign—I've posted this before, but I STILL have no idea who is in possession of this gem. I found it on the Net somewhere. Anyone know where this is? It looks like it’s in front of a bar, and there is a coat room on the right. A function hall? VFW? K of C? Enquiring minds want to know. It’s no secret that I love a good mystery. Readers: we must solve this!

“Another Brick in the Wall” is number four in the spring of 1980. Remember these radio station handouts at record stores? I can say with confidence that back then I wasn’t listening to WHYN, with the lamest playlist on the airwaves. I must confess that I was an HYN top 40 listener when I got my Panasonic transistor radio for Christmas when I was nine in 1972, before I discovered album rock.

This Broadway Grille ad from 1914 got me wondering about the adjacent Broadway Theater. I had not heard of this Springfield movie house—probably because it stopped showing films in 1952. The Broadway Theater opened in 1913 in a block on the west end of Bridge Street that was torn down in 1953 to build a parking lot. That whole area was ultimately bulldozed in the late 1960s to make way for I-91.

The loss of this theater was unfortunate because it was one of downtown’s largest and most ornate cinemas. The place actually had an escalator that took patrons up to the balcony and loges, which had 1,100 seats (there were 1,800 seats downstairs).

Check out the giant sign on the roof that lit up the night:

Its first performance: a play called Green Stockings:

Wow, look at this non-politically correct ad from July 1, 1913:

In the end, the Broadway was used for professional wrestling. Although the reports I read had it closing in 1952, I found several newspaper ads for wrestling there as late as April 1953, including midget wrestling:

Yes, that’s Sky Low Low, who I remember wrestling into the 1970s!  Ladies wrestling was also featured at the Broadway in the place’s final year. My God: Don Leo Jonathan wrestled there as well. I watched him wrestle Bruno Sammartino on TV in the early 1970s.

It only figures that the legendary Cobble Mountain Critter—the Sasquatch of the woods in Russell, Granville, and Blandford, is not only featured on a podcast, but is the name of a microbrew IPA. Here is an account of a possible sighting. Encapsulated, in case you don’t feel like clicking on the link, in the year 2000, the witness had snuck into the reservoir shore for some night fishing. He never got a clear view of the critter, but he claims something approached him with very human-sounding strides. He saw a dark shape in the moonlight that was tall, with very broad shoulders. He beamed a flashlight on it as it walked away and when it turned around he saw eye-shine from the monster’s pupils. When it reached the road it emitted a “loud shrieking howl.” Then fisherman panicked, cut his line, and fled to his car.

See you in July. Check out my Facebook page!