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Historian's Corner

Historian’s Corner

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By Dan Shine

Voice Columnist

An artistic rendering of Puritans heading toward Quinnipiac, which will become New Haven

Our Congregational Roots:

The New Haven Colony

 The New Haven Colony, settled in 1638, was the strictest of the colonies in its adherence to Puritanism; indeed, New Haven clung to the Puritan way of life long after it had disappeared elsewhere.

 New Haven’s 500 original settlers were the followers of the powerful and dynamic minister John Davenport, and his friend Theophilius Eaton; together they had come to this area by way of Boston.  Finding Boston too liberal-thinking for their ultra-conservative tastes, the group traveled again by ship to the place known as Quinnipiac, and settled there, renaming it New Haven.

 It was the dream of this group to escape English persecution and establish a church-run, theocratic, model community that would set an example for the other colonies and for England.  In the words of Puritan minister John Winthrop, “We shall be as a city on a hill, and the eyes of the world will be upon us.”

 Built around nine square blocks, New Haven was the first “planned community” in the colonies. With its natural harbor, New Haven was predestined to one day become a thriving commercial center.

 For 28 years, New Haven existed as an independent colony, until it was annexed by the the Connecticut Colony in 1665.  This change was not at all popular with the Puritans, but by now they were no longer alone in the colony that they had founded.

 Fearing the secularization and religious dilution that they expected would evolve in the settlement, the Puritans migrated once again, and established what today is known as Newark, New Jersey.  It is noted that historically, this repeated migration was normal behavior among Puritans in the Colonies, who often moved again and again.

 The community that the Puritans had established here did not crumble when they moved on; instead it grew and flourished.  In New Haven, where once Puritanism had prevailed, Congregationalism now began to take root.

Historian’s Corner

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By Dan Shine

Voice Columnist

The Quinnipiac Tribe, Revisited

A rendering of a typical Quinnipiac shelter

West Haven and indeed the greater New Haven area are unique places to live.  Following last week’s story about the topography of New Haven, we will now gain a greater understanding of the earliest settlers—Indians and Europeans—of New Haven, how they lived, and how they utilized and contributed to the area that we call home. 

When Dutch explorer Adrien Block sailed into what is now New Haven Harbor, the year was 1614, and he was the first European to lay eyes on the reddish hues of East and West Rocks.  So impressed was he by these sights, that he named the area Roodeberg, which is Dutch for “red hills.”

 But Block was not nearly the first human to be so taken by the sights of this area—for it had been thousands of years since it was first settled by an Algonquian tribe of Native Americans known as the Quinnipiacs. 

 The people called Quinnipiac arrived in the Long Island Sound region about 10,000 years ago, during the closing years of the last Ice Age.  At that time, the glaciers were receding, and Connecticut as we know it was quite a different place:  on its south shore was an enormous freshwater lake, bounded on the other side by what is today Long Island.  At the eastern end of the lake was a giant, thundering waterfall, one hundred miles long and three hundred times greater than Niagara Falls.  The lake was fed by the massive ice-melt along the Connecticut River, and it was in this river valley that the settlers chose to live.

 Long Island Sound became known as “Hobbamock’s Belt.”  Hobbamock was the legendary Algonquian god of death and darkness.  When in Indian lore, he was slain by mighty thunderbirds, his enormous body was covered by earth, and became the Sleeping Giant of Hamden.

 We today have certain long-held beliefs and stereotypes concerning New England’s American Indians.  In fact, much of what we think we know may be incorrect.  For instance, American Indians have long been known as “red men,” when in fact an explorer in 1501 stated, “They are somewhat taller than our average person, their faces were marked with great signs (tattoos), the color of their skin must be said to be more white than anything else.”  One hundred years later, another explorer said, “They are full-eyed, of a blacke colour…the color of their hair is divers, some blacke, some browne, and some yellow.”  Quinnipiac descendents state that their ancestors used red ochre paint mixed with bear fat as a kind of protection from the elements.  This red paint was very sacred.  Not only did they tattoo their faces—they were also fond of tattooing their arms, legs, chests and backs.

 This writer grew up with an understanding that American Indians could not grow beards or moustaches, but some accounts indicate that quite the opposite is true!  In fact, one particular sketch from the 1600s is said to show an Algonquin Indian who is bearded, white and tattooed! 

 The earliest Quinnipiacs appear to have hunted mammoths, giant bears and giant beavers, and had fashioned hunting tools for these purposes; indeed, skeletons of these animals have been found with spearheads lodged between their ribs.

 By about 5000 years ago, the Quinnipiacs had learned to fell trees and fashion dugout canoes from them.  The tree trunks were hollowed out by the use of fire followed by the removal of charred wood, using the scraping action of seashells.  These dugouts became the primary means of transportation for the Quinnipiacs; some of them were large enough that they could hold up to twenty men.

 Now, they were no longer confined to the land.  They took to the waters of the Quinnipiac River and Long Island Sound, and fished with the new implements that they had devised:  nets, spears, hooks and traps.  They crafted stone pots and bowls, which were set into their campfires as cookware.

 Finally, the Quinnipiac Indians became farmers and cultivated the sunny hillsides, there to grow a variety of crops for their consumption.  Their summer camps and plantations were set along the shore, and they wintered inland, away from the powerful winter winds that blew in from offshore.

 When the first seven English settlers arrived by boat in their “new haven” to secure a new colony in 1637, they met the area’s longtime inhabitants—the Quinnipiac tribe.  But the Quinnipiacs were no longer as they had been:  plagues, smallpox and measles had reduced the size of most New England tribes by eighty to ninety percent, and the Quinnipiacs now numbered less than two hundred-fifty, with but forty-seven adult males.  The Quinnipiacs, eager for support and protection from the Mohegan and Pequot tribes, welcomed the settlers warmly.

The Quinnipiac Indians were hunters and farmers who occupied present-day New Haven, West Haven, East Haven, North Haven, Hamden, Branford and Guilford.  When the English settlers arrived, the tribe consisted of four distinct groups:  the Momauguin (New Haven), the Montowese (North Haven), the Menunkatuck (Guilford), and the Totoket (Branford).

The four groups were unified into a tribe by their language, Quiripi, a dialect of the Eastern Algonquin.  Other unifying factors were their culture, blood relations, and their proximity to one another.

Although the Quinnipiac natives were allies of the New Haven settlers, as a tribe they generally held to their own religious beliefs for the remainder of the tribe’s existence.

They lived in dome shaped wigwams, also referred to as round houses.  These were built of wood and woven materials, and covered with animal skins.  The typical wigwam was 6-8 feet high and 10-16 feet in diameter.  This structure was large enough to house one or two families.

The settlers soon learned of the grim and brutal cold of the winters in this place called Quinnipiac.  It was their good fortune that the Indians showed them how to survive this harshest of seasons, and for this, the white settlers were briefly appreciative.

Almost immediately, the settlers began to discuss purchasing land from the Quinnipiacs.  Now, the concept of land ownership was a strange one to the Indians, who felt that a man had no more ownership of the land than he did of the sky.  Nevertheless, in 1638 the Quinnipiacs sold to the white settlers a parcel of land extending from Branford to Meriden to West Haven.  Later, they sold another parcel of land to the colonists that were settling Milford.  Somehow, both New Haven and Milford ended up owning certain land around Oyster River; this disputed land deal sparked an un-neighborly friction between the villages that has continued on for centuries.

In exchange for the land they had sold, the Quinnipiacs were given hunting rights, English protection, twelve coats, an assortment of farming implements and a quantity of cloth.  Sometime thereafter, the Quinnipiacs were allotted what was to be the first Indian reservation in the New World—it was located on 1200 acres at the site of today’s Fort Hale Park.

Early maps of West Farms indicate that there were three settlements of Quinnipiacs in that area:  one at present-day Ames Point, one near Bradley Point, and one at “Wigwam Neck” on Old Field Creek near present day Morse Park.  It is easy to surmise that these were all fishing and farming camps.  In very recent times, an archaeological excavation has revealed numerous artifacts along the Cove River.  This particular site is believed to have been used as a Quinnipiac settlement site, and was very likely used for the preservation of meat for winter use, and the processing of hides for clothing and shelter.

In the years that followed the English settlement of New Haven, the Quinnipiacs dwindled steadily in number, as the body of settlers grew in number.  Then, between 1700-1750, groups of Quinnipiac Indians were relocated to Stockbridge, Massachusetts by the settlers.  By 1740, only 15 or 20 Quinnipiac families remained near New Haven.  The last parcel of their reservation was sold at public auction in 1773.  By 1850, it was recorded that the Quinnipiac had ceased to exist as a tribe.

Historian’s Corner

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By Dan Shine

Voice Columnist

The founding of New Haven came in 1638 with settlers from Massachusetts looking to begin a new life. It was situated between East Rock (shown above) and West Rock.

New Haven Topography

 Topography is defined the study of the shape and features of land surfaces..  It is the intent of this article to describe the early topography of Greater New Haven, and to explain its influence on its early inhabitants.  New Haven lies at the southern terminus of the central lowland of Connecticut.  It is surrounded by ridges to the east and west, hills to the north, and New Haven harbor to the south.  The land in between is a flood plain cut by three rivers, the West, the Mill and the Quinnipiac. 

The rivers and the harbor provided an easy, convenient mode of transportation for early settlers, and the central plain facilitated settlement, transportation and agricultural development.  Thus, the Nine Squares of the early town could expand with ease.

How was this homeland of ours formed and developed, so long before the arrival of human settlers?  Much of the following is related to us by Floyd L. Shumway and Richard Hegel of the New Haven Museum and Historical Society:  Back in early geological times, during the Triassic period, an enormous north-south depression extending from the shoreline to Massachusetts developed in Connecticut.  A large tract of rock dropped below the level of the surrounding area, forming what is known as a trench fault of the earth’s crust.  In this way, the twenty-mile wide central valley lowland of Connecticut was created. 

 Subsequent rain deposited large amounts of sand and other matter into the valley, then volcanic lava forced its way up along the cracks of the original fault and spread across the surface.  This lava is known as basalt or locally as “trap rock.”  Next, the entire process repeated itself.  Subsequent action–the pressing inward of the sides of the valley–forced segments of the trap rock upwards, forming among other things, West Rock and East Rock, and to the north, Sleeping Giant.

 The Connecticut River flows due south from the Canadian border to Long Island Sound, on a steady north-south track; and it might seem reasonable that it should continue due south directly into New Haven.  However, when that river reaches Middletown, it leaves the central lowland of Connecticut and heads southeast to Old Saybrook. 

It is believed that concentrations of resistant basalt lava at Middletown forced the river to change its flow and switch over to its current course.  The Quinnipiac Indians would have disagreed:  It was their tradition that Hobbomock, the Sleeping Giant changed the course of the river simply by stamping his foot there.  Anyway, had the Connecticut River continued south into New Haven, the topography of this area would have been radically different.

To the south lay New Haven Harbor, an estuary that is more than four miles wide.  The first white settlers chose this harbor as a place where they could establish an important commercial center, and trade with the West Indies and Europe.  However, the harbor was shallow, and the long channel—only seven feet deep at mean low water—was hard to negotiate, even with the ships of the 1600s.

This was the land first inhabited by the Quinnipiac Indians, and later on by a group of Puritans, led by Theophilus Eaton and John Davenport, who hoped that they had found their Promised Land, thereupon to build their “Shining City on a Hill.”

To be continued-

Historian’s Corner

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By Dan Shine

Voice Columnist

George Belbusti had quite a harrowing experience in a plane similar to the model that sits before him.

George Belbusti

Ramey Air Force Base

Aguadilla, Puerto Rico

Cold War, Autumn, 1953

Air Force Crew Chief George Belbusti watched from the ground as his ten-engine B-36 Bomber labored down the runway and powerfully lifted itself from the ground.  Suddenly, its number four reciprocating engine exploded into flames. 

As he began to tremble, George feared for the B-36’s crew:  they were now part of what was quite literally a flying bomb, and which was loaded with 26,000 gallons of high-octane fuel and 80,000 pounds of explosives.  What would happen next?  Belbusti considered the chances of a devastating crash, a “ditch” at sea, or the very unlikely possibility of a safe landing.  The situation looked very, very bad.

And then it happened:  Somehow, the B-36 began a wide sweeping turn, and while trailing smoke and flames it landed safely on the same runway that it had just used for takeoff.  Sixty-six years later, George Belbusti can still remember the look on the pilot’s face as he and his crew hastened from the plane: “He was as white as a sheet!”

George Belbusti was born at home on Stevens Avenue in West Haven, the fourth son of Anthony and Mary Belbusti.  He attended Thompson School from Kindergarten to Eighth Grade and graduated from West Haven High School in 1949; while he was in high school, he served in the National Guard.  After he graduated from West Haven High School, he joined the US Air Force, where he served from 1949-1954

The Air Force had wanted to make a pilot out of George, but by this time he was looking for something different in his life.  Upon returning to civilian life, he applied for entry into what was then Southern Connecticut State College under the GI Bill.  He was accepted and successfully pursued a degree in Elementary and Special Education; later he completed his studies for a master’s degree in Reading, followed by an administrator’s degree from Bridgeport University. 

In 1958 George began teaching at what then was Bailey Junior High School; he taught Social Studies, English and Reading, and stayed there until 1964.  He was proud of the fact that he brought the SRA (Science Research Associates) reading program into West Haven, and many Westies will remember the SRA program well.  In addition, George Belbusti is credited with ensuring that all West Haven schools had libraries within their walls.  His introduction of IGE (individually guided education) brought a new dimension to grades K-6.

 As time passed, George Belbusti became supervisor over twelve elementary schools.  During that time, he met Colleen Bartlett, who was one of his co-workers in the school system.  Later they were both widowed; subsequently they were married, and have celebrated sixteen years together. 

 George is warmly remembered by many of his students, both for helping them with their academic studies, and also for teaching many of them about aviation, in which he partnered with Henri Pozzouli at West Haven High School.  George had a pilot’s license and flew regularly for 35 years.

 Today, George Belbusti is enjoying his life in retirement and traveling with his wife Colleen.  It should be noted that his son-in-law Rob Bohan is the current principal of Bailey Middle School.

 When asked what he would do differently if he could live his life over, George said, “I don’t think I’d make any changes.  Although limited by their lack of education and limited resources (due to the Great Depression) my immigrant parents managed to support their five children through high school.  The Air Force and the GI Bill allowed me to enter a rewarding profession supported by a loving family and the West Haven community which I consider to be top of the line and a pleasure to serve.”

Historian’s Corner

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By Dan Shine

Voice Columnist

I’ll be Home for Christmas

I’ll be home for Christmas
You can count on me
Please have snow and mistletoe
And presents on the tree

Christmas Eve will find me
Where the love-light gleams
I’ll be home for Christmas
If only in my dreams

          Bing Crosby, 1943

Every GI had a special memory of that song; in father’s case, it just made him shiver.

“Christmas” 1946 was the year the words of the song came true for the Shine family. GI Bob came home from overseas.

Like most American boys of a certain age, Bob Shine spent Christmas 1944 overseas and at war.  For him, that Christmas morning was spent in battle, and that Christmas night was spent in a snowy foxhole, with frozen feet.  In the days before Christmas, he had thought wistfully of that song, and America, and home, never knowing just what lay ahead for him.

On Christmas Eve, as the hour approached midnight, Shine and the entire 75th Infantry Division found themselves racing to the front lines, and being hurled into a desperate battle.  As Christmas day dawned, the boys of the 75th division—their average age was nineteen—helped turn back a mighty German offensive in what would later be called the Battle of the Bulge.  That night, Shine dug his foxhole in the frozen Belgian earth, and slept in the snow.  And he thought of the friends he had lost that day: friends who would never be going home to celebrate another Christmas; and throughout the cold, dark night, he wondered if that Christmas would be his last.

By the time Christmas 1945 arrived, the war was over.  Many of the surviving American servicemen had returned home, but Shine was still in Europe with the occupation forces, and so he missed yet another Christmas at home.

At last, in the spring of 1946, he returned to the States via troop ship, was mustered out of the army, and made his way back to West Haven via train and trolley. 

When he finally arrived at the family home on Union Avenue, his mother was there to welcome him.  There in the living room stood the skeleton of the Christmas tree from the previous December, and there was hardly a needle left on it.  Underneath the tree were all of the family’s gifts, still wrapped as if waiting for Christmas morning.  Smiling, and with a tear in her eye, his mother explained, “We decided that just this once, Christmas could wait awhile.  Merry Christmas, Bobby; welcome home!”

 For after all, Christmas is more than a place on the calendar–it’s a place in the heart.

 Merry Christmas!

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Y2K, The Year 2000

Books and pamphlets on surviving the Y@K disaster became a cottage industry in the year leading up to 2000. In the end, it was all a big dud.

By Dan Shine

Voice Columnist

Any child who grew up in the 1950s or 1960s will remember a popular cartoon program about a family known as The Jetsons.  The Jetson family reflected the vision that most of us believed would become reality by The Year 2000 and beyond.  Naturally, George Jetson, his wife Jane, their two children and their dog Astro tooled through the air in an aerocar, since surface transportation had become outmoded.  George worked two hours a day, and Jane had a robot named Rosie who handled the housework.

 The Boy watched The Jetsons every Sunday night during 1962 and 1963, and after that on Saturday mornings as it went into reruns.  He had no doubt that this was his future.

But life doesn’t always work out as we plan.  By 1999 there were no aerocars in existence, except for Doc Brown’s DeLorean, as featured in that iconic movie from 1985, Back to the Future.  As The Year 2000 approached, the world had much uncertainty to worry about, including end-of-the world predictions, and the lesser fear of the Y2K Virus, which we believed might shut down computer operations, taking with it our utilities, communication, everything. 

Newspaper headlines and magazine covers in 1999 had much to say, including: The day the earth will stand still; All banks will fail; Food supplies will be depleted; Electricity will be cut off; The stock market will crash; Vehicles using computer chips will stop dead; Telephones will cease to function; Domino effect will cause a worldwide depression; Nostradamus Predictions for 2000.

And so it was that the cautious New Haven Register for Jan. 1, 2000 was actually delivered to newsstands and newspaper carriers before sundown on New Year’s Eve.  And as parties and celebrations began, the world waited and watched with some degree of trepidation.

 And of course, Jan.1, 2000 came and went with it no real calamities or inconveniences.  And since that day twenty years have passed, bringing new problems and new fears to replace the old ones.  And along with those passing years has come a whole new generation of young adults who have no memories of Y2K.  Or even of The Jetsons.

Historian’s Corner

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By Dan Shine

Voice Columnist

The Hurricane of 1950

 Note:  This week, we defer to a past First Church Historian, Marjorie Phelps, and part of a narrative she gave to the Vacation Bible School in August, 1960: 

The hurricane of 1950 blew through Connecticut late in the season on Nov. 25. It damaged the steeple of the First Congregational Church, and toppled the bell from its moorings. The bell (shown below) was undamaged, however, and soon a rebuilt steeple housed it to call worshipers to prayer.

 Now, the front of the church where the steeple is looks very much as it did a hundred years ago; but the front of the church isn’t exactly as it was a hundred years ago, because something happened here ten years ago.

 On Nov. 25, 1950, I happened to be at a wedding at the church here.  It was the wedding of someone whom some of you children had for a first grade teacher up in the old gymnasium.  Do any of you remember Mrs. Jones?  Well, it was her wedding day.  And such a rainy, windy day it was.  In fact, it was a day when we had a real hurricane here in West Haven.  Now, I only live two blocks from the church, but I took a bus to get to the church, because it was raining so very, very hard—I knew I would be soaked if I didn’t.  And I couldn’t drive my car.

 Well, after the wedding was over, we all went into the parlor for a lovely reception.  And we were having a nice pleasant time visiting around when the sexton, whose name was Mr. Duncan, came in; and he said, “Anybody who has his car parked outside the church better move it.  The shutters are beginning to blow off.”  And we looked out, and it was raining harder than ever, and sure enough the trees were bending down, almost touching the ground, and shutters had blown off the church.  Well, you never saw a building empty as fast as that parish house did.  Soon, everyone was gone from the wedding reception.  And I couldn’t get a bus back to my home—I walked; and it was so windy it was just like pushing against a wall to get up the street; but I finally got home.  I turned on the radio and they were telling about trees coming down and different things happening during the storm; and then all of a sudden came a News Flash!  And it said “The steeple on the First Congregational Church on West Haven Green has just blown over”.

 Well, the next morning, it was sun-shiney and quiet and calm and all the people went to church.  And the steeple lay in ruins on the steps and to the side—but there was a sign on the front of the church which said, “Church as usual”.  But we had to go in through the parish house doors.

 And the people had a meeting right after the church service that morning and they decided they would rebuild the steeple.  They would raise the money and they would put up another steeple just like the old one.  And so they did and they made the church a little bit larger while they were doing it, so there would be room for even more people. 

 And the bell that was in the old steeple was not broken so it was put in the new steeple and that’s the bell that you hear sometimes on Sunday mornings calling the people to church.

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By Dan Shine

Voice Columnist

West Haven Green, 1920s

Part VIII – Conclusion

See Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, or Part 7

What is now known as the “Altschuler Building” is one of the oldest structures in the city, dating back to 1825. It has served in many ways over that long history, including a courthouse.

  On the southeast corner of Campbell and Main was the what is today known as the Altschuler Building; built in 1825, it is the oldest “larger” building in West Haven.  Over the years, it has housed a courthouse, a jail, a post office, a morgue and a library. During the 1920s, West Haven Bank and Trust was located there; the bank failed during the Great Depression of the 1930s, taking all of Katherine Held’s family’s money with it, for these were the days before the advent of the Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation. That building is reputed to have its own howling ghost, that of murder victim Jennie Cramer, but that’s another story for another day.

  For many years, the Atlantic and Pacific Tea Company—better known as the A&P — occupied different locations on the block between Main Street and Curtiss Place.  At that time, it was one of the “larger” grocery stores in West Haven.

  Also in that block was the Cameo Theater, one of several West Haven movie houses which enjoyed great popularity during the years before the advent of television.

  Generally, the other businesses occupying that block included a barber, a meat market, two bakeries, two grocery stores and a hardware store.  In those days, you could walk to one of the many stores on Campbell Avenue, and buy every item that you could possibly need!

  At the south corner of Curtiss Place stood the telephone company building, on the site where it still stands today, connecting telephone calls for West Haveners.

  By the 1920s, Church Street had been cut through to Campbell Avenue, dividing the old Burial Ground, and causing the removal of Christ Church; and also by this time, that church was rebuilt in stone, standing on the south side of Church Street, and to the west of the Burial Ground. 

  Katherine Held recalls that next door to Christ Church stood the home of Harry Ford and Sarah Welch; later it would become the home of First Church’s Sexton Jimmy Coyne. 

  To the west of that house stood the home of Reverend Johnson of Christ Church.

  In front of those homes, and even until late in the twentieth century, stood small stone obelisks with iron rings affixed to them.  These served as hitching posts for those who came into town in buggies and on horseback.

  On Savin Avenue, to the north of Church Street stood the home of John Lynch, civil engineer and influential local politician.  Next door stood the home of the Wells family, with its wraparound porch that the neighborhood children enjoyed playing on.  In the early years of the twentieth century, this property was a dairy farm, which at the urging of the town fathers was later moved to a more rural area in Seymour.

  Two houses from the Wells House was the First Church parsonage; at that time it was the home of Reverend Wilbur Johnson.  Although Rev. Johnson added 350 new members to the church in one year, and was responsible for assembling the fifth largest Sunday School in the country, he was forced out for “improprieties” and left West Haven in disgrace.

  At the corner of Savin Avenue stood the Poli house, as it still stands today.  The Poli family at one time owned 30 theaters and various other properties around the United States; Sylvester Poli was at that time the largest theater owner in the world.  Today the Poli house is occupied by the West Haven Historical Society.

  It is the sincere hope of these writers that these homes and business facilities, which represent such a significant part of West Haven’s history, will be retained and maintained for the benefit of future generations.

 Thanks to Steve Hildrich for his help with this part of the story

Historian’s Corner

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By Dan Shine

Voice Columnist

untitled
Members of the West Haven Police Dept. show off the new fleet of 1929 cruisers purchased for the town. The police are shown in front of the old Town Hall, which stood in the same spot as the current City Hall. Demolished to make way for the new structure, the building was originally a borough hall until 1921, when West Haven split from Orange.

West Haven Green, 1920s

Part VII

See Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6 or Part 8

  Katherine Held was born in 1915; today she is 104 years old, and still has a sharp and lucid memory.  She has lived in the same house on Church Street for nearly her whole life, and this column would not be possible without the efforts of Katherine, as well as Steve Hildrich, present Historian of First Church, which this year is celebrating its 300th Birthday.

  West Haven, Borough of Orange, became a town of its own right in 1921.  The West Haven of Katherine Held’s childhood is remembered as a time when most people took the trolley or walked in order to get to work or to shop.

  Indoor plumbing and telephone service were both fairly new, and gas lights were still in the process of being replaced by electric lights, both in homes and along the streets, and radio sets were just finding their way into many homes.  And it was during the 1920s, that automobile would begin to change the culture and structure of America.

  Katherine’s memories recall the homes and businesses which surround the Green, and those will be discussed here. 

  At the northeast corner of Savin Avenue and Main Street was the home of George Peck.  That home would be razed in 1958 and in its place would be Williston apartments. Steve Hildrich saw the wrecking ball take it down; he lived on Center near Savin at that time. The stately house had worn paint outside, but beautiful woodwork inside. Even at 13, he was very sad to see it go.  As a child, Katherine Held recalls many happy days spent playing with Attorney Peck’s children.  

  Two doors to the east was the home of Dr. Bevan; when young Katherine was out sick for more than three days, she would need a note from the doctor before returning to her classroom at Washington School.  The next house belonged to well-known Savin Rock entrepreneur Frank Wilcox, who had opened his restaurant in 1900.  Wilcox’s was built on pilings, and was famous up and down the coast for their shore dinners and its unsurpassed vistas of Long Island Sound. 

  Two doors further to the east was Seth Taylor Funeral home, named for its owner, who had founded it in 1917. Katherine Held spent many days at play with the Taylor’s daughter and recalls being told to be quiet especially during funerals.  At the corner of Campbell Avenue and Main Street stood West Haven Town Hall, which had been built in 1893; it housed the police department, the fire department and the young town’s administrative offices.  Every building on that block was beautiful—sadly, today every one of them is gone–or so changed as to be unrecognizable.

  On the northeast corner of Campbell Avenue and Main Street stood Silver’s Drug Shop, run by its young new owner William Silver, who had purchased the business when he was twenty years old.

 Thanks to Steve Hildrich for his help with this part of the story.

Historian’s Corner

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By Dan Shine

Voice Columnist

Four Centuries of West Haven Green

Part Six

See – Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 7 or Part 8

We wish to thank Peter J. Malia for contributing parts 1-6 of this series-

 Following the American Revolution, life on the West Haven Green was forever changed. Despite their severe losses in the war, West Haveners felt confident enough in their community’s future as part of a new nation to petition New Haven to become their own town in 1785. The center of that proposed new town would of course be the Green.

Christ Church has stood on the Green since Revolutionary times. Members of the Anglican Church were viewed with suspicion and that suspicion prompted many to flee West Haven for friendlier place. The current church dates from 1903 and was designed by Ralph Adams Cram.

The petition fell upon deaf ears. Two years later, West Haveners again petitioned New Haven for town status. This time Milford joined in the protest against the idea in fear that it was spark a boundary dispute and possible violence. Those fears were not unfounded.

A half century earlier, Milford and West Haven farmers came close to a shooting war over disputed land. It was not until 1822 that West Haven made yet another–and this time successful–bid for independence. The difference was it was done in concert with North Milford to create the new Town of Orange. Initially Orange had more residents, so the seat of government was located on what is now Orange Center Road. By the 1860s, however, West Haven’s ship building industry along Front Street and its burgeoning downtown area facing the Green required Orange to create the semi-autonomous Borough of West Haven in 1873. Full town status would not come until 1921. 

 Despite setbacks in establishing itself an an independent town, what could not be stopped in West Haven was progress. By the year 1800, James Blakeslee bought the Lamberton Painter House on the corner of what is now Main Street and Campbell Avenue and opened up a tavern.

Directly across from the Green, Blakeslee’s tavern became an immediate favorite among the villagers as a drinking and meeting place. It became so popular, in fact, that some West Haveners eventually complained about the increasing number of “country” people lounging about the Green singing and frolicking like “gypsies,” one local diarist complained. It seems the so-called “Campbell Crawl” has a history behind it.

 Other citizens were interested in the Green’s beautification. As the borough’s population and budget increased, paved walkways crisscrossed the Green. By 1860, fencing was also added, but it was eventually removed after the two churches could not agree as to what was common open space. One thing that did unite the two churches, an incited a week of rioting, was a grave robbery in 1824.

Some Yale medical students allegedly exhumed the body of 19-year-old  Bethsheba Smith,  from the West Haven graveyard in the middle of a winter’s night. Discovering the empty grave on Monday morning, hundreds of West Haveners converged on the Green and marched on the Yale Medical School, then located on Grove Street in New Haven.

The West Haven sheriff discovered the girl’s dissected body hidden in the basement, and the angry crowd wanted justice. After several days of rioting, the West Haven protesters simply ran out of steam, especially once the Governor’s Footguard appeared on the scene.

In 1855, a new Congregational Church was built and the old meetinghouse was re-purposed as a public meeting hall and general store. Sadly, the new church burnt to the ground in 1859, only to be rebuilt again at the princely cost of $10,000. Much of that Federal/Greek Revival structure still stands.

Meanwhile, Christ Church underwent its share of face lifts beginning in the late 1830s. By the end of the 19th century, church membership grew to the point where another rehabilitation of the old church was started with  the addition of electricity, heating,  a loft new organ, and  a new adjacent rectory. It was not until 1909 that the present Christ Church was consecrated. Designed by Cram, Goodhue & Ferguson, the trap rock Episcopal Church that now stands on Church Street today is considered one of the finest Gothic-style churches in Connecticut.

 By the 1860s horse railways ran from the Green into downtown New Haven. Trolleys soon followed with service to Savin Rock, which had now developed into a major seaside resort area. Championed by Harry Ives Thompson, the  town’s newspaper editor, postmaster, historian and accomplished artist, Fourth Avenue was renamed Campbell Avenue in honor of  Adj. William Campbell, the slain British officer who only hours before his own death had saved the life of West Haven’s minister during the British invasion in 1779. 

 By the 1870s, the Green and its downtown surroundings were booming, thanks to the trolleys and train depot that helped fuel local industries, including the West Haven Buckle Company and shipbuilding businesses at the end of Main Street, now a property in limbo as the city awaits the development of The Havens.

Along Campbell Avenue were a variety of mixed-use commercial buildings across the street from the Green as well as a portion of the ancient burial grounds on the side of the church dating back to 1723. Once Church Street was developed, the other half of the old graveyard was located on the corner of Church Street and Campbell Avenue surrounded by a low wrought-iron fence. Next came Christ Church itself and a few other buildings associated with the Episcopal Church, all located on this short cut-through.  Bordering the Green to its North and West were Main Street and Savin Avenue, respectively. Savin Avenue had a mix of buildings facing the Green, including a girls’ finishing school and the Congregational Church Parsonage on Savin Avenue.  Main Street was dominated by the iconic town hall, built in 1892 on the site of the present City Hall.

 Also in the 1870s, ownership of the Green changed hands from the Congregational Church to the West Haven Borough in 1876. The only caveat was the church retaining a right to build and expand its presence in the future, That turned out to be a wise decision as the venerable West Haven Green approached the 20th century.  (To be continued.)

 Peter J. Malia is the author of Visible Saints, West Haven, Connecticut, 1648 – 1798, available at connecticutpress.com , Barnes and Noble in Orange, eBay, and Amazon..