In the 1960’s, summer swimming for me was at the Town Pool. I do remember swimming a few times at Long Pond but that was on the Canton Street side. Until recently, I never realized Easton folk swam on the “other” side of Long Pond, off North Main Street. Cars could drive in and park, and although there wasn’t a sandy beach, people gathered, picnicked and swam. There was a place to purchase food called Lakeshore Lunch. Below is a photo from 1938 showing the building and photos of beachgoers.   Another interesting destination- also before my time- was a small restaurant on Route 138 in South Easton, Anne Harvey’s Tea Room. Open from 12 noon to 12 pm, the tearoom served chicken pies, hot chicken sandwiches and homemade pies. For only 10 cents a customer could purchase a hamburger sandwich, a fried egg sandwich, or an iced coffee. Hot coffee was 5 cents. On the menu at 45 cents were- a triple decker sandwich, a crabmeat sandwich, a tuna fish sandwich. At 55 cents the chicken salad was the priciest.   I think a nice summer day might include a refreshing swim at Long Pond and lunch at the Tea Room. Would love to pay 10 cents for an iced coffee!
Anne Wooster Drury In every time and place there are disreputable characters. Early Easton was no different. The following story comes from Chaffin in the History of Easton. This character, described as a half-breed from Canada (Canadian & Indian) or a Frenchman, who had a ‘swarthy’ complexion and struck terror into the hearts of women and children, came by his reputation honestly. A wood carver and a thief, it seems he worked particularly hard at the latter.  This man arrived in Easton from Raynham in July of 1759. He brought a wife and two sons with him. Chaffin, describes the wife as a woman “simple enough to marry him.” While living in Easton, a third child, a daughter, was born to the couple. He was known as “Old Bunn” though he had numerous aliases including Benjamin Edy, Eddy Beniway, Eddy Bennawine, Edy Benoy, and many more. “Old Bunn” and his family moved within Easton often as no one wanted him in their neighborhood; wherever he lived items disappeared. He was the go-to suspect whenever something was stolen, although occasionally he wasn’t responsible. Chaffin posits that his first residence in town may have been the old unfinished Presbyterian church at the Green where profanities were found written on the interior walls. Neighbors whom he’d stolen from were known to take him into the woods and give “him a good thrashing.” So, the family was constantly on the move from one part of town to another. Finally, an exasperated Oliver Howard hired Hopestill Randall to come with his oxcart and physically move the family. Their belongings were thrown on the oxcart and after a full day of wandering, with no neighborhood willing to accept them, Hopestill dumped the belongings on the side of the road where they were “speedily converted into smoke.”  There is evidence that the family bought a house in 1776 for 12 shillings. It is described as a “shanty with no cellar.” In 1781 Bunn and his two sons received a bounty of 900 dollars in silver for enlisting in the army but by 1785 the family were paupers. The town was ordered to take care of them but there is little evidence Easton ever did. By 1787 the family had vanished.
With his swarthy appearance Old Bunn might have been initially judged unfairly but with so many strikes against him I believe he earned his bad reputation. I doubt anyone was sad to see him go. Anne Wooster Drury Sources: Easton Historical Society and Museum Chaffin History of Easton, MA Vol 1 - 1886 This is a story about the gift of an Easton family that made a difference in the lives of the hearing impaired. In 1867 the Clarke School for the Deaf was founded in Northampton, Massachusetts by Gardiner Greene Hubbard and John Clarke. It was the first school for the deaf that focused on lipreading and speaking as opposed to signing. This was a progressive philosophy in the 1860’s. It was a residential school, forward thinking for the time, and the school attracted much attention. Alexander Graham Bell, whose mother was deaf, taught at the school in 1871 and served as its president from 1917-1922. At about the same time, Edwin William Gilmore (1828-1904) of North Easton, was a machinist and manufacturer in Easton. In 1854, a partnership had begun between Edwin W. Gilmore and the Ames family to manufacture various articles of hardware, such as washers, hinges, and ship scrapers. Later, in 1871, Gilmore purchased the interests in the E.W. Hinge Factory from Oliver Ames, Jr. and Oakes Ames. A new factory was constructed that year, and Gilmore also built a large home on the corner of Elm Street and Main Street. He was a very successful businessman.   E.W. Gilmore had a deaf grandchild, Wallace Schouler Gilmore. In 1899 Gilmore and his second wife donated money to be used for a gymnasium for the school. The cost of the construction of the building and all the equipment was paid for by the Gilmores. Included were two bowling alleys, showers and lavatories, a children’s gym with a running track and gallery. In 1899, 150 pupils were enrolled at the school, which was very successful. Many of the students went on to some type of further education. In 1900 Wallace Gilmore was enrolled at the Clarke School.  Times have changed and so has the school. The Clarke Schools for Hearing and Speech are located on five different campuses, including Northampton; the school is no longer residential. It still serves the deaf community in many ways. Today the emphasis is on the early mainstreaming of deaf children and the use of hearing aids and cochlear implants. Speech is still the goal.
E.W. Gilmore used his wealth to support a cause dear to his heart and in doing so helped many in the hearing-impaired community. Anne Wooster Drury Sources/Links: Clarkeschool.org Wikipedia - Clarke Schools for Hearing and Speech The Boston Globe - March 20, 1899 Easton Historical Society and Museum I was hired to deliver newspapers for an early morning paper route and took on a daily job of cleaning a nearby barber shop after school. My day started at five a.m. and a one mile walk to open the barber shop for cleaning. I then picked up a canvas bag of Boston newspapers to walk my two-mile paper route. I got home by 7:15 am to wash up, change clothes, and was due at school before 8:30 am. School ended at 2:30. I cleaned the Barber shop daily at 3 pm when I didn’t have after-school activities. Once, I was asked by the barber-manager to help him remove a large venetian blind needing repair. It was Monday, his day off, and we met late in the afternoon to avoid the glaring sun. We took the cumbersome, heavy blind down and placed it on some chairs. He then started to erupt into one of his many coughing fits, but this time he couldn’t stop. He wheezed while struggling to breathe in between coughs. His face turned red, and then purple. He started foaming at the mouth. Suddenly, he collapsed and landed on his back. The foam continued to flow as he quietly moaned.  I ran outside to O’Conner’s lunchroom and paper store screaming for help! A local doctor just happened to be sitting at the lunch counter sipping coffee while holding a newspaper and chatting with a police officer. We all ran to the barber shop. The doctor then rushed to his nearby car and returned with a bag, gave the barber a shot and felt his pulse. The barber stopped breathing and died peacefully. Ironically, it was just after sundown, and darkness had just set in. I suddenly realized that I was the last person he saw and had spoken to in his lifetime before he passed away. I wept softly and was driven home by the police officer. This poor man was a World War One veteran. It was called The Great War. He was a victim of chemical warfare, a foot soldier who was attacked by a floating cloud of mustard gas drifting toward his unit on a battlefield in France causing permanent damage to his lungs which led to a fragile, lifelong heart condition. His head was bald on top with wisps of snow-white hair on the sides, and a pale, wrinkled face, aged far beyond his years -- an old man at fifty-five. The war had ended in 1918 yet prematurely took his life away in 1953 as if the war had never ended for him. And here we stood silently, a doctor, a policeman, and a young paper boy witnessing the death of this wounded soldier on his final day, across the street from the town’s World War One Memorial.  Gold stars are added next to the engraved names of soldiers, sailors and marines killed in battle. Yet, many veterans returned home and eventually died after suffering from their battlefield wounds. I call them the invisible Gold Stars. They are honored at their funerals with the sharp, crackling rifle bursts of a firing squad followed by a nearby bugler’s slow, delicate melody of Taps echoed hauntingly by another distant bugler’s notes eloquently trailing off.
This quiet man originally came from the South and the only family he had was a wife. The funeral was private, without Taps, without honors, as if he were unknown. His name was Charles Ford. Rest in peace Charlie. Rest in peace Doctor Brenner and Officer Carl Palm, all veterans of The Great War. Thank you Don for a moving tribute. Anne Wooster Drury In the mid 1800’s Bravo Dunbar was a successful Easton man. His house was known as one of the town’s most historic residences and it was rumored that years prior, when it was a tavern, George Washington had spent the night there. In 1853 there were 5 buildings on Bravo’s property of 5 acres, where he kept 2 horses and 1 carriage.   Bravo was a large handsome man who carried himself well. His home was described as one of the most refined on the Bay Road between Boston and Taunton. Bravo traded horses, built carriages, and sold rum, calico, tea, sugar, and many other items in the variety store he kept. In addition, on his property he had a hall in which community events were held, everything from dances, balls, temperance meetings, and dramatic exhibitions. Apparently, he was a jolly landlord, and his daughter Almira was very pretty and could sing as well as play the piano. At temperance meetings young men would sign pledges to win her favor. In later years the “Know Nothing” party held initiations and meetings here. Bravo Dunbar moved on- “went West”- and the house changed hands, eventually being held by John Randall. In 1903 Orzo Randall was living in the house when a fire broke out that destroyed the house and barn, killing 2 horses and 4 cows. Possible causes included spontaneous combustion of new hay and arson.  Interestingly, the fire was first spotted by young Walter Beasley who was sleeping in the locked barn when he heard the crackling of the fire. Fortunately, he found a way out. Beasley was just one of several orphans who were living on the property that summer. He raised the alarm, but it was too late to save property. Such was the end of the “Bravo Dunbar House.”
Anne Wooster Drury Sources: Boston Sunday Globe, Aug. 4, 1895 Boston Globe, Sept. 4, 1903 A couple of interesting firsts for Easton. Did you know the paper towel originated in Easton? Maybe. Wikipedia will tell you they were invented in 1907 by Arthur Scott, who was looking for a more hygienic way to dry hands. They were made of crepe paper and first used in restrooms and medical facilities.  When F.S. Pope was Superintendent of Schools in Easton he despised the roller towel and personally protested against its use. About the turn of the century A.A. Gilmore, native of Easton who dealt in paper articles, solved Mr. Pope’s problem. Wood fixtures were created in the carpentry shop at the school and tissue paper was attached to them, creating a ‘paper towel’. The first mass production of paper towels was in 1931 by the Scott Company, but perhaps they were already in use in Easton? Initially the buying public was skeptical of the new product, but it didn’t take long for the more sanitary towels to catch on, especially in the kitchen. Whichever happened first, A.A. Gilmore and Mr. Pope must be awarded some credit.   The plane took off at 2:35. By 5:17 one of the miniature shovels- addressed to the Postmaster’s wife, Mrs. Clement J. Coughlin-, arrived back in Easton. It had arrived so quickly the Postmaster was afraid he had failed to send it! Kudos to Ames Airfield!  Ethel “Ettie” Anderson was the daughter of Swedish immigrants. One of three sisters, she graduated from OAHS in 1933 and went on to study nursing at Goddard Hospital School of Nursing from which she graduated in 1938. In 1942 she was working at Massachusetts General Hospital from where she was recruited into the Army Nursing Corps. Her unit served in North Africa and Italy. In 1944 Ethel was promoted to First Lieutenant before returning home in 1946.  Ethel left South Station on May 15th, 1942; to begin her service and said she never regretted her choice. My account comes from a longer document written by Ethel herself. Here are a few interesting stories from her record:
 Anne Wooster Drury As Women’s History Month draws to a close, we remember three Easton women who were very involved in preserving green space for our community, in particular, Wheaton Farm and Sheep Pasture.   One of the large donations to the project came from Mrs. Elise Ames Parker and her husband William, who became friendly with Lyn White and Ginny Reusch with whom they shared a love of nature and conservation. The Wheaton Farm project had led to the formation of the Natural Resources Trust of Easton. The Natural Resources Trust was created as a non-profit in 1967 and owns and manages various conservation properties throughout Easton. The core of the land administered by the NRT is Sheep Pasture. Beginning in 1973 Elise Ames Parker allowed her former residence, known as Sheep Pasture, to be used by the organization as a classroom for environmental programs and the study of nature. That year public school children began using Sheep Pasture as an outdoor classroom. This tradition continues today and all elementary school children in Easton visit and enjoy special programs. Through Mrs. Parker’s generous bequest, in 1979 Sheep Pasture was permanently given to the NRT. An additional 40 acres were added 20 years later, purchased from Mrs. Parker’s grandson, completing the 154 acres outdoor classroom.  It began when friends Ginny Reusch and Lynn White asked Mrs. Parker to give the young NRT a conservation restriction along the brook that flows through Sheep Pasture here and she agreed. Although Mrs. Parker lived at Unity Close, she kept her eye on Sheep Pasture, where she had grown up. Her family home was built in 1891 by her father Oliver Ames II and though it was torn down in 1946 Elise Ames Parker had fond memories of growing up there. When asked by the two women if Sheep Pasture could be an environmental research center she agreed. Eventually Both women volunteered to get the program up and running and in 1978 Ginny Reusch became the first paid executive director of the NRT. “Elise Ames Parker (1892-1979) is responsible for the NRT's ownership of the iconic Sheep Pasture property. The support of Mrs. Parker and her family have not only provided the NRT with a physical location for the organization to focus on its operations and programs but also saved many acres of land from development in the Easton area. In recognition of Mrs. Parker's commitment to the environment and the community, the NRT developed the Elise Ames Parker Friend of Conservation Award in her memory.
An Easton woman you may not know of- Fidelia Reed Heard (August 13, 1822 – February 22, 1895) travelled to Antarctica with her husband on her honeymoon and in the process learned to read maritime measurements. She and her husband, Captain John Jay Heard, were the first to spot Heard Island, an Antarctic Island, and she was the first to describe it in writing and the first to sketch it. The island’s isthmus is named Fidelia isthmus after her. Fidelia’s journal was a key source in documenting the discovery in 1853. The research material she compiled on the voyage is still referenced by scholars. Fidelia was Olive Reed’s granddaughter. Fidelia was the daughter of Olive’s son Daniel Reed and Sally Wild Reed.   The first written description from Fidelia Heard’s journal:
 This is the story of a hermit. A “Poor, humble, unfortunate old man”. A man who lived alone for decades in a rude shelter off the highway (Bay Road?) near the Easton/Sharon line. The story is that in his younger days he had fallen in love with a “maiden fair”, but she chose another and he was so despondent that he spent the rest of his days in his hut. According to the account it was like a hen coop with a sod roof and a rough chimney at one end. It’s described as the type of temporary shelter wood choppers or colliers would build for shelter during storms. Not a permanent home.  Anne Wooster Drury
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