A Crazy Start to Summer

Every summer I teach a week-long summer institute for teachers on topics in history. This year we studied community history. Teaching 5 days straight all day long is pretty intense, but also wonderful. 

We took over this small town--here I am setting off with a group to study architecture.

The community wondered why all these people were staring at their houses and taking notes. We met a lot of people who then joined in!

We learned about how to teach history in the cemetery.

Here's a page from one of the teachers' journals.

We even ventured into the woods to explore old cellar holes.

It was a fantastic week.  I have two jobs right now and the day after the institute ended, I found myself at our local industrial history museum training 5 teenagers for their summer intern jobs. They are a great group of kids and I enjoy working with them.

July 4th saw us in New Hampshire for a quick overnight in between trips. I had a property owner meeting to go to. Helen and Nelson headed off for a photo at our traditional bridge to commemorate her new college status.

Nelson and I had a breather for one day which we really needed as big changes are coming to our family. We needed to walk and talk.

We met this friend on our hike.

And then...the very next day Helen and I headed off on the train, bound for New York City. I took 15 teachers (many of whom were also on the train) for a week of intensive history workshops and tours.

Helen and I got an afternoon on our own. We visited the Guggenheim.

...and saw Pippin. Helen was so happy to see her first Broadway show.

I took the teachers to study immigration at the Tenement Museum.

We visited a synagogue...

...and had walking tours and workshops in Chinatown.

We got home and I spent the weekend back at the museum teaching kids how to make telegraphs.

This might have been the craziest 6 weeks of my working life. The fact that I am actually blogging speaks to the fact that maybe I'm catching my breath.

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"Our Bridge"

We celebrated an early Thanksgiving this weekend with my parents as we are going to Canada over the holiday. We have a tradition of taking family photos at the Chocorua bridge in NH.  Our family has been getting their photos taken on this bridge with the mountain in the background since 1928.  Here is a little tour of the photos.

My grandmother and her sister

My grandparents just before getting married with my grandfather's mother

Jean Crosby and Jim Cayford

My Grandmother on her honeymoon

1936 Honeymoon--nobody around to take their photo together!

My Mother--1940

My mother, sister, and parents--1946

My Mother!

Now my Grandfather with his three kids--Jane, Chris, and Phil

My grandparents' 30th anniversary photos on the bridge

Here I am with my brothers and father--I was 10

I might have been a senior in high school in this photo.

My father is wearing my down jacket. Love the shiny jackets!

I was college-age in this photo with my grandmother, parents, and brother.

Sadly, my father probably still has this old jacket of mine from 1978.

Here my grandparents got someone to take their photo!

My brother 

My parents

Here are our honeymoon photos from 1994

Now the next generation with my brother and his son

My brother, his wife, and kids

Here we are with our girls

Helen and Liz

Here are Helen and Liz now with my parents

Taking selfies at the bridge--a new photography technique!

Our family today!

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Can you go back home?

They say you can't really go home again, but we did last weekend.  We had a small family reunion at Old Sturbridge Village where my mother spent much of her career.  I worked there too! Here I am back in about 1987 or 1988. I spent a lot of time baking bread on the hearth and washing dishes.

The house where I worked is now self-guided and you can try things out for yourself so I got back in front of that old fireplace.

Elizabeth was able to join us for the visit.  She, too, has been at Old Sturbridge Village in costume as part of their summer camps. Here she is in front of the same fireplace making cookies.

Here we are taking a break from the heat. It was really hot!

We have many, many wonderful family memories of Old Sturbridge Village.  Here I am with my parents and brother with an old friend who is the village tinsmith.

We went out for a lovely dinner after our long, hot day in the village. My brother used to wash dishes at the restaurant when he was a teenager!

We also went back to see our old house.  It was such a lovely time and we all talked and talked, sharing memories and stories.  I think you can go back home.

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The History Mystery

A few weeks ago I took a group of teachers (and Helen) on a mystery tour high up into the hills of Vermont. We walked through the bushes and found this house--really a tar-paper shack. We explored, questioned, compared old photos, and came to the conclusion that this house was more of a Tidewater Virginia house than a Vermont house. Which led to more questions....who lived here?

We looked at other evidence and found out that it had once belonged to Daisy Turner and her family.

Daisy Turner died at the age of 104 not too long ago. Her parents had both been slaves in Virginia. Her Father, born a slave, ran away from his plantation during the Civil War. Late in life, Daisy became her family’s historian, relating tales of her grandfather’s journey from Africa into slavery in Virginia, and her father’s eventual escape to freedom and life on a Vermont hill farm. You can hear Daisy tell her stories here.

The Vermont Folklife Center has published two of Daisy's stories as children's books. The first is Alec's Primer which is a story about her Father learning to read as a young boy.

The second, a favorite of ours, is Daisy and the Doll.

It was a very special afternoon to be on this land so close to our past. We listened to Daisy tell her stories via an Ipad, met with a folklorist (our mystery guest) who interviewed Daisy, looked at family photos, and thought about this extraordinary family's journey from Africa to New Orleans to Virginia to Vermont. We were touching history.

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