Growing up on Sheridan Street in North Easton it was possible to walk to various stores, both on Main Street and otherwise. The store I most often frequented as a child in the1960’s was the Corner Store that was located at the bottom of Columbus Ave. My cousins lived just a few houses up the street from the store and we often walked from there.
Side story, when I was in elementary school we used to play in the middle of Columbus Ave. We would draw in chalk in the middle of the street, not sure what game that was? I remember neighborhood boys making go-carts and driving them down the street; we would just shout, ‘car’ if we saw one coming.
The owner of the Corner Store at the time was Dick Southworth; he was also a postman I believe. Candy cigarettes were popular, we played at smoking. Colored liquid in wax bottles, wax lips, Bazooka bubblegum for two cents. I believe (memory can be tricky) I recall when popsicles went from five cents to seven cents. Sky Bars were a favorite of mine, four different fillings wrapped in chocolate.
The Corner Store. Later to become Casey’s, Tedeschi’s, Little Peach. Now, The Peach.
Tom Barnhill’s Five & Ten was located on Main Street. I remember buying Christmas presents for my brothers and sisters there. It was dark and dusty inside. Creaky old floors. For a short time, I worked there- Tom Barnhill was our neighbor on Sheridan Street. I remember being told to watch out for shoplifters. Apparently, neighborhood kids were known to do such a thing(!) When the store closed, or when Tom Barnhill died, I don’t clearly remember, we acquired his large brass cash register. It sat on our hearth for decades.
I remember waiting in the station wagon in the narrow drive outside Harvey’s Market on Main Street, with three, four, or five younger siblings, while my mother went inside to buy a pound of hamburger. We had hamburger at least twice a week, broiled, in meatloaf, American Chop Suey or a dish my mother made up, called South American Meat Cakes- hamburger with onions and gravy. It sounded exotic; we didn't know until years later that there was no such thing as South American Meat Cakes. She seemed to take forever in there. I disliked stopping at Harvey’s.
The Easton Pharmacy was a staple on Main Street before chains like CVS or Walgreens came to town. It’s where we picked up prescriptions and other drug store items. As a teenager I recall buying nail polish or a lipstick.
Easton Pharmacy, 108 Main Street, North Easton, MA, 1950’s. Starting in the 1950’s through 1970’s, James A. Zarrella operated the Easton Pharmacy at 108 Main Street. Easton Historical Society. Further down the street was Howard’s Insurance, O’Connor’s News Store and Barnhill’s 5 & 10.
106-108 Main Street today. Mind Body Barre Yoga Studio.
The top photo: Manuel Silva’s shoe repair shop. Harvey’s Market is on the right. Easton Historical Society.In the bottom photo: Today the building houses Shangri La Salon and Day Spa.
I don’t live on Sheridan Street anymore but still walk down Main Street, though I am more likely to stop at The Farmer’s Daughter or La Cucina restaurant. And I stop by The Peach for wine or snacks. Though Easton has changed a great deal, it’s still a place I like to call home.
Fusilli pasta tossed with artichoke hearts,
Roasted red and yellow tomato, Kalamata olives,
Red onion, roasted red peppers, olive oil and
Balsamic vinegar, served over greens
Anne Wooster Drury
Growing Up Near Frothingham Park, Who Else Remembers?
I’m sure we took it for granted, my siblings and I, living across the street from the Park. For every season, there are memories. We lived on Sheridan Street, but we didn’t usually enter by way of the Sheridan Street gate. Almost directly across the street from our house was the “crooked bar”. One of the iron bars in the fence was bent, just enough that small children could slip through. The crooked bar was such an institution that when, decades later, the fence was being repaired, my mother asked that the crooked bar be left alone.
These memories are from the 1960’s, when the playground was typical of the times, but dangerous by today’s standards. There were monkey bars, a giant slide, swings, heavy metal rings, and most fearsome of all, what we called the ‘merry go round’ or Maypole spinner. These were metal handles draped off a center pole. You ran and jumped and swung and dreaded the occasional hit on the head when someone jumped off, leaving their handle flying. I was hit on more than one occasion. There were wooden seesaws and in the back corner near Park Street a tall metal jungle gym. On hot summer days we would hang upside down by our knees from the lower bars.
We called this the ‘merry-go-round’. Beyond the fence are the backyards of houses on Day Street. Notice the plaid bell-bottom pants. Easton Historical Society.
The Big Rock. We discovered a few different ways to climb up onto the Big Rock. It was like hitting a developmental milestone once you could maneuver this all by yourself. It was a great spot to view your surroundings or have a secret meeting. Secret meetings and clubs were huge. Another test of climbing ability was to climb on top of the monkey bars. And there was tree climbing as well. They were wilder and freer days in the 60’s. Siblings and cousins accompanied you to the park, not parents.
One of the most creative ways we used the Park was to set up ‘house’ in the pine grove in the corner near Sheridan Street, just inside the fence. We swept the pine needles on the ground into low walls separating our houses and hung our doll clothes in the trees and made rooms for our babies. Very dated female role playing, but we had fun.
My sister Rosemary and I trying out our new big bikes on the track at the Park, 1963.
In winter, the hill on the Sheridan Street side was great for sledding. The perfect size for the age ten and under crowd. One year we built a mogul at the bottom of the hill for extra excitement. Remember metal coasters? Sleds with metal runners? In spring the track got really muddy, and we wore our boots and pretended it was quicksand. So much fun getting pretend stuck.
In the summer there was a Park Program and neighborhood children could just walk in. One of my strongest memories was gimp. Multi-colored plastic strings that we braided into bracelets, necklaces, or key chains. Quiet activity for a gray muggy day, or a cool sunny one. We didn’t carry water bottles, individual plastic, or reusable, they weren’t a thing yet, but the water fountain was always available if we were thirsty.
Above is the water fountain at Frothingham Park. Cannot confirm date but clothing looks to be 1960’s. Easton Historical Society. Note backstop and softball field in background. They no longer exist.
Sadly, the days of children moving in packs and looking out for each other are gone. For better or worse the playground looks much different now. All the old equipment is gone as the Park has evolved with the times. (Shout out to Scott Pearsons, Executive Director and Facilities Manager.) My own children enjoyed the Park in the 80’s and 90’s, my grandchildren enjoy it today. Thank you, Mary Ames Frothingham, for your gift to the town, in memory of your husband, Louis Adams Frothingham, dedicated September 27, 1930, and putting it in my front yard.
Playing games in the park
‘til way after dark. I’m back
through the crooked bar again,
where only children fit
Anne Wooster Drury
The Queset is a lovely brook that runs through the villages of North and South Easton, and on into West Bridgewater, eventually becoming part of the headwaters of the Taunton River. According to Chaffin in the History of Easton, the name Queset was recorded for the first time in 1825. Earlier, the brook was called Mill River, Saw-mill River, Trout-hole Brook, or Brummagem River- after Eliphalet Leonard’s Brummagem Forge. Chaffin believed that Queset was probably a corruption of Cowisset or Coweset, by the people of Bridgewater, who mistook it for another river that was also located in the Taunton North Purchase, but further to the west, in Norton. On a 1736 map Mill River was mistakenly named Cowisset (map from state archives, vol. cxiv. p. 211).
Partial view of the map of the Taunton North Purchase showing the main waterways in Easton, including Queset.
Today Queset Brook flows out of Ames Long Pond, crossing under Canton Street and going on to meet a tributary formed by the small streams that were at one time (1846-1968) dammed to form Flyaway Pond. After meeting at Picker Field, the combined waters flow west of Canton Street, under Main Street near the Queset House, into Shovel Shop Pond then onto Langwater Pond where it joins Whitman’s Brook flowing south from Easton’s northeast corner. After crossing under Main Street at the Langwater Pond Dam and into Sheep Pasture, flowing south and then east into Morse’s Pond in Easton Center, the Queset continues east under Washington Street, into Dean Pond, and under Turnpike Street to the join with Coweeset Brook near Walnut Street, then travels south to join the Town River in West Bridgewater.
Water was of great importance to the early (and later) industries in Easton. A few examples: a saw-mill was built in South Easton sometime before 1700 by Thomas Randall, Sr., Thomas Randall, Jr., and Nathaniel Packard. It was located near the dam on the Queset that existed in Chaffin’s time. (His History of Easton was published in 1886.) Clement Briggs had a grist-mill at the same dam prior to 1713. The third industry known was the Leonard Forge at Stone’s Pond (Fred’s Pond, Langwater) in North Easton. It was working in 1723. In 1716, Capt. James Leonard purchased land on both sides of ‘Trought-hole Brook’ (Queset) to start an iron business. He built a dam, and the business was operational sometime before 1723.
Bridge over the Queset at Washington Street, South Easton. Easton Historical Society.
The stream gives its name to historic Queset House and Queset Gardens in North Easton and more recently Queset Commons, an apartment complex near Stoneforge Restaurant, and Queset Medical at 20 Roche Bros Way in North Easton. I agree with Chaffin that ‘Queset’, although likely a ‘mistake of a name’, is a pleasant sounding and agreeable name. We live in a different sort of world today; the Queset, and the ponds its dams have created, are enjoyed for their aesthetics more than their practical uses.
Queset flowing near Governor Ames Estate.
The wind pushes the water
Across the pond, over the dam
Hard into the granite bones of the
Streambed, breaking it black and white
Anne Wooster Drury
Of special note on this newsletter:
On display now at the Historical Society is this beautiful window brought from England for the Edward Hayward 1714 house. The window is in the Tudor style (1550’s – early 1600’s). The house was southeast of the Joseph Hayward (red) house currently at 227 Foundry Street. According to Ed Hands in Easton’s Neighborhoods, Edward Hayward moved to Easton in 1713 when “the road from West Bridgewater ended at his new house.” He was the first of many Haywards to live in and improve the Hayward-Poole neighborhood.
The window is displayed in a special frame crafted by Jon Coe.
I’ve been reading the Easton Bulletin dated June 1, 1888. Geo. H. Jenkins was publisher & proprietor, Dr. F. E. Tilden, the editor. A one-year subscription, paid in advance, cost two dollars. A single copy, 5 cents. It was to be published every Friday. So many things were different in 1888, but many things were the same, including human nature. The Bulletin met many needs of the residents of Easton; it was the social media of the day. The Bulletin included a train schedule, church directory, social directory, humor, baseball scores, local news, gossip, poetry, fashion news, an installment of ‘A Novel’ by Florence Alden Gray, advertisements and more.
Of interest was News and Notes for Women. Easton women were advised that pale pink and gray were favorite colors in cotton dresses, that women in New York had taken to walking for exercise in large numbers and doctors were complaining. (I am not sure why doctors were complaining.) Apparently, Queen Victoria of England frowned on electric lights in her palaces. A Mrs. Shoemaker of Missouri was applauded for not being a ‘gadder’. She was perfectly well, thank you, but hadn’t left home in 25 years, not even to go next door.
In an article on the recent Memorial Day festivities, it was reported that Dr. J. C. Swan spoke of his wish that every soldier be pensioned, and he was glad to pay his share, of his father’s strong anti-slavery sentiment and joy at reading Lincoln’s Emancipation Proclamation. Rev. F. A. Warfield of Brockton spoke for an hour, praising the courage of Northerners during the ‘60’s (Civil War) and their heroic spirit, holding the attention of all. The day was declared most successful.
Hood’s Sarsaparilla was advertised as a cure for many things. A personal testimonial from A. A. Riker of Utica, NY claims- if one feels languid or dizzy, has no appetite or no desire to work, the beverage will cure you. “It makes the weak strong.” 100 doses for $1.
There was a local news section for each part of town: Centre Casuals, South Easton Etchings, Sequasset Sketches, Furnace Flickerings. Many of the notices here were pedestrian, about people visiting, ‘stopping’ somewhere, being gifted a colt, becoming ill or housebound. A few were very odd by modern standards.
“Herbert Hewitt is a solid lad. He is 9 years old and weighs 128
“Robert Willis, an old citizen of this place, was taken to the Taunton Lunatic Asylum last Tuesday.”
“Frank Belcher has got a new bicycle. It’s a dandy.”
And in “Here and There: Tommie Fish, a lad of 12 years of age, was accidentally shot in the thigh by the premature discharge of a toy cannon with which he was playing.” The femoral artery was narrowly missed, surgical aid was called, and he was doing well. Tommie Fish lived in Unionville.
Recipes were included for: Rice entrée, potato turnovers, oranged strawberries, and rice and asparagus soup. Just for fun, I made the rice entrée. Recipe: Stew a cup of rice until well done, add a small cup of milk, two well beaten eggs, pepper and salt to taste, pour into a shallow pan, sprinkle grated cheese thickly over the top and bake until the top is nicely browned. It looked pretty, tasted OK; wouldn’t make it again.
Rice entrée made with recipe from Easton Bulletin, 1888.
An interesting article titled “No Almshouses in China” contrasted the US and China in regard to how the poor were treated. The author argued that so many people in the Empire of China lived at subsistence levels that 2/3 of the population would qualify for aid if it were available. However, accommodations in US almshouses were luxurious in comparison, with clean beds and good food. (Youth’s Companion)
The Bulletin was full of far too many stories to adequately sum up, but I’ll end with a story that claims Pond Street is becoming one of the prettiest streets in the village. Elm trees set out years before by Henry McArdle are growing tall, and there is a beautiful view of the Governor’s residence across the ‘clear transparent waters.’ A nice street for an evening’s promenade. It is still a lovely view today.
Blue heron, still in profile
On the bank of Shovelshop Pond
Archaic line drawing
Superimposed onto now
Anne Wooster Drury
My Walk of Easton’s Railroad Line, Continued. From Old Easton Center Depot to Former Taunton-Raynham Greyhound Park.
I set out from Fernandes Lumber and Home Center about midday, the temperature was 50 degrees. Crossing Depot Street, I followed the path into the woods. Soon I came to a split where the path separated into two, one continuing to Purchase Street- which I took- and the other off to the east. The path was clear, easy to walk, and I observed footprints, dog prints and ATV tracks. I came across one leftover piece of track. It must have been forgotten when the tracks south of the Depot Street Station were removed, sometime before 1968. I crossed Purchase Street and continued toward Prospect. This stretch was uneventful. Shortly after crossing Prospect, I found myself between Pine Oaks Golf Course and Easton Country Club. To both sides were well-groomed greens and a handful of golfers. While I was passing through the course the ground was like a small roller coaster, up and down, perhaps connected to drainage? I crossed a wooden bridge at one point.
Wooden bridge. Easton Country Club is to my left as I walk south.
View of Pine Oaks green to my right.
Once I was clear of the golf courses, I was aware of water off to the east and the west. To the east lay the cranberry bogs and Little Cedar Swamp. To the west Black Brook. When I reached Foundry Street there was the distinct smell of skunk in the air. I stopped here for the day. I wanted company on the remainder of my journey.
A week later I set out with a friend and two dogs to complete my walk. It was sunny but cooler, about 44 degrees. The path was clear but wet wherever there was a depression in the ground which was regularly. It was not too difficult to walk around the wet areas and the dogs were happy to walk right through. After passing behind the Southeastern Regional School we were isolated. Not too far along we came upon some good-sized deer prints. Further on, a large deer crossed the path ahead of us. Too quickly for a photo.
View of Regional School to my left as I walk south.
As we headed further into the Hockomock Swamp, a few facts. The Hockomock Swamp, covering 16,950-acres and spanning six towns, including Easton, is considered the largest freshwater swamp in the state. ‘Hockomock’ is an Algonquin term meaning ‘the place where spirits dwell’. Indigenous people hunted here and used it as a sacred burial site. The Wampanoag feared and worshiped the god ‘Hobomock’ who was made up of the souls of the dead and liked to gather in places like the Hockomock. It serves as the headwaters of the Town River which flows into the Taunton River. The swamp is home to at least thirteen rare and endangered species and is of archeological importance. While greatly valued by the indigenous peoples, the first European settlers were proponents of draining the swamp for agricultural purposes. Chaffin himself agreed with this.
There are many and various tales of supernatural events occurring in the Hockomock. I’d hoped my walk would be drama free. There was one unusual occurrence. Shortly after the deer crossed ahead of us, a bird with a large wingspan appeared in the air ahead of us down the path, perhaps 20 yards away. From where we stood the wingspan appeared as wide as the path. We were both sure it was just a bird but also pretty sure it wasn’t a hawk. Perhaps a falcon? I don’t think it was the legendary ‘giant creature over six feet tall that resembled a bird’. It was quickly gone. Bit of a mystery.
Bridge and evidence of a double track. This was toward the end of our walk. We parked one of our cars behind the old Taunton-Raynham Greyhound Track and stopped walking there
We came upon a clearing where the power lines ran through and there was more evidence of ATV activity. In some areas the undergrowth was dense, in others less so. We passed three bridges that spanned the waters of Black Brook, the main branch of which was to our east. A good way into our journey there was evidence of a double railway track. The path split and a line of young trees ran down the middle. Overall, the walk was very nice but anticlimactic.
The Hockomock wasn’t as intimidating as I’d envisioned. At night, in the rain, or off the path, I’m sure it would be. Although we still can’t definitively explain that big bird!
In granite cold, I
Fragments of old tracks
Anne Wooster Drury
The Holiday Festival is this weekend and the Historical Society and Museum will be playing its part.
-The railroad station will be open this Saturday, from 8 AM to 4 PM and this Sunday, from 10 AM to 4 PM
-The Society is having a merchandise sale for a limited time only, outlined in the attached flyer
-The Garden Club is selling greens at the railroad station this Saturday, from 8 AM to Noon
-Don't forget to check out the other town events, like the Festival of Trees or the Main Street Stroll
Thank you for your continued support this holiday season and we hope to see everyone this weekend!
Interim Curator, Easton Historical Society and Museum
Reminder of upcoming events:
Easton Garden Club will be selling greens at the Easton Historical Society Saturday, December 3rd
Easton Lion Clubs Annual Holiday Celebration is Sunday, December 4th
Easton Festival of Trees, sponsored by the Easton Charitable Trust, November 26th to December 11th at the Easton Country Club
Burying Grounds, Graveyards and Cemeteries. Easton has 36 cemeteries, both town-owned and
private. The oldest is the Old Burying Ground, established in 1705 and located on Church Street.
The last established cemetery is private; the Holy Cross Fathers Cemetery (1950) is located at
320 Washington Street. Before roads were ample and reliable in all seasons, when people lived
on isolated farms without good transport, the dead were often buried on their own homesteads.
Often the graves were unmarked, or only marked with piles of stones. Later when the property
changed hands, new owners may not have known or cared about the burial sites.
Some of Easton's burying grounds are very small and located in obscure places. I visited five
small and unusual burial grounds in Easton. The Asa Newcomb Graveyard, located at 11 Red
Mill Road in South Easton, includes only two graves. Asa's, who died at age 67 in 1827 and his
wife Sally's. Sally died in 1836, age 65. Asa Newcomb lived in "the extreme southwest part of
town" somewhere near the Norton line. In his History of Easton, Chaffin states the gravesite "is
carefully enclosed and well cared for." The same is true today. Chaffin refers to Red Mill Road
as Maple Street and it appears as such on early maps.
Newcomb Burying Ground
Another somewhat 'hidden' cemetery is the Almshouse Burying Ground (1845). It is located to
the rear between 30 and 34 Rachel Circle. "A lot of land sixty by forty-five feet was laid out
three hundred yards southwest" of the Almshouse for inmates who had no other option for
burial- no willing friends or relatives. At the time Chaffin noted that there were nineteen or
twenty unmarked graves. He suggested that it would be appropriate to provide headstones
inscribed with birth and death dates for these unfortunates. Today there is a marker for the
School Street Cemetery which notes that thirty-eight bodies are interred here, though "Their
names are known only to God." The cemetery is no longer surrounded by "a good stone-wall"
as it was in Chaffin's time.
Perez Packard, who at one time lived in the Maliff house on Lincoln Street, is buried in a grassy area that was once near the edge of Flyaway Pond. A very young son, and a daughter of about twenty, are buried with him. You can reach the site by parking on Flyaway Pond Drive and walking a short distance into the woods. There is a path that leads to a stone inscribed 'In
Memory of the Packard Family' (1878). As a family, the Packards came very early to Easton;
the earliest date a male Packard is mentioned in Chaffin is1709. Nathaniel Packard was one of
many petitioners writing 'To his Excellency Joseph Dudley, Esqr.' regarding the location of a
meetinghouse. Nathaniel Packard also appeared on the muster roll of minutemen in Easton
called to action after the first shots of the Revolution were fired in April of 1775.
He was a veteran of the Revolutionary War. As you can see in the photos the Veterans of Easton are wonderful about keeping fresh flags at all gravesites.
Captain Elisha Harvey, one of the earliest settlers in Easton, is buried on Elm Street near the
intersection with King Ave on the property of the Old Colony YMCA, Easton Branch. It is
possible that his grave (and others) were affected by modern construction in the area. Harvey came to Easton from Taunton before 1767 and during the Revolutionary War was present at many
important battles, including Brooklyn Heights and Yorktown. He was promoted from Sergeant to
Lieutenant, and toward the end of the war, Captain. He was known for being a brave officer.
When the war ended, he was living in Taunton but was back in Easton in 1790 and died here in
1821. He received a pension of thirty dollars a month in his old age.
Ichabod Manley's grave site is not far from the water tower near Roche Bros plaza in North
Easton. Take Rockmeadow Drive off Washington Street, turn right onto Pebblebrook and park
where the road bears to the left. Walk toward the left of the water tower and you will see, again
to your left, a small chained off area. There is only one stone and I could not read anything on it.
It took me two attempts to find the grave. On the map titled 'A Plan Of Ye Old Easton' based on
an original map drawn in 1750, Ichabod Manley's homestead appears in Easton's northeastern
corner, just south of the Stoughton line. His grave marker is in that approximate vicinity.
Ichabod Manley's gravesite near the water tower off of Washington Street.
Although not purposely hidden at the time, these gravesites are not easy to find today. I felt like a trespasser on occasion as I passed very close to modern homes. It is well that they are remembered and tended to. Although many burial sites are lost to time, it is good we treasure
what we have.
Pine needles underfoot on both
Pavement and path muffle all
Sound. Morning is quiet but for
The flutter of birds in the bittersweet
Anne Wooster Drury
I would like to recognize Ken Michael for putting together a special display for our Veteran’s Day open house at our Museum. I have attached
a number of images of our artifacts and pictures assembled over the years. We will be keeping this display for our visitors until early December
and before the Easton Garden Club has their annual Christmas greenery sale. (pretty sure that’s Saturday, Dec. 3rd.)
Thanks also to Janet Michael for coordinated the refreshments (she did it all!) Arielle for labeling everything! Our new Director, Steve Anderson
fixed our large clock on the wall that day!!
All that attended loved the exhibits. So please share this info, and invite family and friends to see the displays until December 3rd.
Although the railroad played a large role in the development of Easton as an industrial community, the trains are long gone.
But remnants of their existence remain. With a couple of interruptions, it is possible today to walk the train's route from the
Stoughton line, through North Easton, Easton Center, all the way into the Hockomock Swamp, ending up behind the old dog
track in Raynham.
I've been walking the railroad tracks. Last week, on a beautiful fall day, I walked from the Stoughton line, west of Roche Bros
Supermarket and approximately parallel to Washington Street, to the Historical Society and Museum on Mechanic Street.
Between Stoughton and Elm Street are two wooden bridges, one more damaged than the other, that cross Whitman's Brook.
Damaged bridge over Whitman's Brook
View off the path
Occasionally, trails lead off the path beside the tracks, leading to hidden vistas worth checking out. The above view was down a
path on the right, off the line, heading south. After crossing Elm Street and reaching the Historical Society I continued up Sullivan
Ave., toward Main, and passed another bridge that carries the tracks above street level. Walking on, I slipped through a tear in
the fence and hazarded a treacherous descent down to the tracks and the wall of dirt and vegetation packed under Main Street
where a bridge once crossed.
Chet Raymo, Easton resident, noted author, and professor emeritus at Stonehill College, wrote in his book, The Path, published in
2003, about his regular walk from his home on Main Street in North Easton, through Sheep Pasture, to his job at Stonehill, that
"Measured from end to end, the path described......is hardly more than a mile, but the territory it traverses is as big as the universe."
The railroad tracks run less than seven miles through the Town of Easton but there is an entire universe here. Like Raymo, I try to
observe every detail of my route. Three days later, I continued walking. Between Main Street and Bridge Street the path is difficult
but from Bridge to Depot it is clear.
Bridge Street has an interesting history. The Village of North Easton map (1895) shows Bridge Street was originally
an (upside down) U. If you drive up Bridge Street from Center today, turn left to stay on Bridge Street, and at the bottom of the hill
turn left again you run into rocks blocking what used to be part of Bridge Street, crossing the railroad tracks to Center Street. When
I first began driving in the 1970's, a car could cross here to Center Street. Today there is a sign where the road meets Center, for
'Center Street Rear'.
In the photo on the top, from the map View of North Easton, Mass, 1881, is the part of Bridge Street (never a bridge) crossing
from Williams Street to Center, heading west. On the bottom, the map Village of North Easton, 1895, showing the U-shaped
Continuing on, it is easy to access the tracks from the outdoor chapel behind the Covenant Congregational Church on Center Street.
There, on the far side of the tracks, is a wet area sometimes called 'The Muck'. In the past, young people fished and skated, and in
at least a few cases, even swam there! Some of its 'muckiness' comes from the fact that it absorbed run-off from the old Easton dump
that sat at the bottom of Baldwin Street and operated until 1972. I also passed an old, rusted automobile shortly before arriving at
Old car near Depot Street
The Easton Center train station, which no longer exists, was located on Depot Street near Fernandes Lumber and Home Center.
Today, a building (possibly the ticket office) that was once part of the station complex is located a short distance away from its
original location, behind the Evangelical Congregational Church at 351 Depot Street.
Easton Center Depot
I plan to complete my walk of the train line as it travels through Easton. (Once the bears are in hibernation.) In North Easton, tracks
remain, but by 1968 all of the tracks south of Easton Center were removed, and there is only a dirt path. I will pay attention as I go.
In addition to history, architecture, and industry, we appreciate our town's natural beauty and green spaces. Some are well-known
and well-visited: Borderland, Wheaton Farm, Sheep Pasture, but some are still somewhat hidden and a joy to stumble upon. In
The Path, Chet Raymo writes that most of us will find our purpose "on the local scale, along paths that begin at our own front door."
Anne Wooster Drury
The frogs in the pond are a
Memory now, gone wherever
Frogs go when the wind scrapes
Dry leaves along the pavement
Our annual meeting was very successful and we appreciate the sizable turn out. For anyone who was not able to attend, ECAT has a recording available at: https://youtu.be/z4vyWtqXdFg
Thank you for your continued support and have a wonderful weekend!!
Anne Wooster Drury