Monday, September 26, 2022
Sunday, September 25, 2022
Saturday, September 17, 2022
Natural disasters come in all forms. Hurricanes, tornadoes, blizzards, earthquakes, tsunamis, and more attack without remorse and change land and lives in their wake. Fires are sometimes natural disasters and sometimes man-made. They are no less devastating whatever their origin is.
Cape Cod has seen its share of fires. There have been some terrible forest fires over the centuries. However what about fires that caused an overwhelming loss of property? One of the deadliest such fires occurred in the first decade of the 20th century and forever changed Downtown Hyannis. This is the story of Main Street’s great fire of 1904.
|Looking west down Main Street before the fire. Everything on the right was basically wiped out.|
In the 2020s it’s hard to imagine that there was a time when Hyannis’ Main Street was anything but wall-to-wall shopping and restaurants. A century ago however it was dotted with residential homes as much as businesses. It has always been referred to by its ‘ends.’ The East End lies near the end of the railroad tracks and is close to Cape Cod Hospital, while the West End is today near a rotary and close to the Cape Cod Melody Tent.
The Main Street area of Hyannis had actually seen a pair of large fires in the preceding years both in 1892 and again in 1894. What came in the early morning hours of December 2-3, 1904 topped both of them in terms of loss.
The exact location and cause of the fire itself have never truly been established. However, it can be traced to one of two places. Although the fire could have begun at either L.P. Wilson’s grocery store or Walter Baker’s neighboring department store, both located near Center Street across from the railroad depot. It was Wilson who first was made aware of the blaze.
Living above his store Wilson’s mother alerted him and his wife and two children just before midnight on September 2nd. They were all able to escape the fire in the nick of time with only the clothes on their backs. Wilson’s store was the easternmost location to be lost. Wilson’s mother thought the fire began next door in Baker’s building. However with the buildings all being built so close together, some as close as six feet, it will likely never be known where the actual ignition location was.
Shortly after midnight on Saturday, December 3rd the alarm had been sounded for the fire department in the form of the bell atop the nearby Universalist Church. It is unknown just how long the flames had been roaring before being brought to anyone’s attention. Wilson’s Hyannis Public Market and Walter Baker’s Department Store were the first structures to go, but they weren’t the last.
Strong northeast winds coupled with the wooden buildings being so closely packed together meant that the fire spread easily. The flames were essentially blown right down Main Street. Luckily many of the buildings in the path of the flames had items removed by volunteers before the flames could reach them. This included stock from some of the businesses. The Hyannis Fire Department got five pieces of apparatus together but it was no match for the growing fire. Calls were made to other local departments with firefighters from as far away as Middleborough, Provincetown, and Brockton making their way to help. In an extreme act of bravery, a man from the Telephone Exchange Co. was atop a nearby telephone pole sending messages for help as long as he was safe.
The fire ate through more than 600 feet of Main Street real estate. The exclamation point in the carnage came at just after 3am when the steeple of the Universalist Church came toppling to the ground. A perimeter was set up using wet rugs and blankets on and around buildings that were just out of the fire’s reach. Eventually, the strong northeast winds died down, and by 4am the fire had been contained.
Heading west along Main Street the following businesses were totally destroyed by the fire: The Universalist Church, post office, Richardson Bros. Photographers, William P. Bearse & Co. who sold meats and provisions, P. F. Campbell & Co. who were tailors, Singer Sewing Machine Co., Charles W Megathlin’s pharmacy, A. P. and E. L. Eagleston’s department store, New England Telephone Exchange, Julia Stevens dressmaker, James E. Baxter boots/shoes, Thomas Nickerson’s marble, and granite works, and finally A. B. Nye & Co.’s paint store.
|Postcard of the fire's aftermath, taken by Walter Baker whose department store was destroyed.|
When all was said and done fifteen buildings had been destroyed. Conservative estimates had the damage somewhere in the neighborhood of $150,000($5 million in 2022). For A. B. Nye it was the third time that his paint store had burned down in twelve years. Only once had the fire started on Nye’s property. Sadly sixty-nine-year-old retired sea captain William Penn Lewis died of a heart attack while in the process of saving his house from the fire. As day broke on that Saturday morning all that was left was carnage. Nearly ten acres of property, retail and residential, government and worship, all lay in ruins.
With the perseverance of a bygone generation, those Hyannis residents who lost their homes or businesses did not stay down for long. In fact, the post office was quickly moved into the home of Mrs. E. C. Benson. Thanks to the determination of Postmaster Percy Goss it was delivering its first shipment of mail by 7:30 that same morning. Most of the businesses quickly set up temporary locations in and around the charred remains of their establishments. Insurance adjusters came later in the day on Saturday, and by the end of the day, plans were already being made for rebuilding Main Street.
|Main Street as it appears today. (Google Maps)|
By April 1905 nearly all of the lost buildings had been rebuilt, most of them in the same locations where they previously stood. Today there is little to no reminder of the devastating fire that changed the face of Main Street Hyannis. The ‘new’ buildings are all now nearly 120 years old themselves. They have seen generations of change on Cape Cod and in the world. The solitary reminder in plain sight is a historic marker at the intersection with Ocean Street. It was roughly where the fire was stopped and shows a photo of the aftermath of the blaze.
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Friday, September 16, 2022
In My Footsteps Podcast: Episode 85 - Cape Cod's Marconi Wireless Station, Rutland Vermont, Video Arcade Heyday, Worst As-Seen On TV Products, Phineas Gage
Friday, September 2, 2022
Have you ever had a certain scent stir up intense memories? I’ve had a lot of recent experiences, especially during the warmer months. It centers around pine. Pine trees, pine needles, maybe the sap, I don’t know, but it’s strong. It happened again today while I was walking from my car into a client’s house which led me to write this. The smell of the pine needles strewn across the ground, coupled with the dry, late-summer air made a perfect potpourri. So much so that I had to stop and take a moment to acknowledge the memories and emotion that was brought to the surface.
Whether on a forest trail or a bike trail the past comes softly calling. It always sends me back to the same place, the same time. Age sixteen, 1994. Why is that? It’s easy yet complicated.
1994 was likely the last time that I felt the warmth of innocence. I was a sophomore in high school, still living in the neighborhood that had molded my childhood like fresh clay. It was a time when the world was still there to be conquered, but there was no rush to make concrete plans. I had dreams, to be a writer, filmmaker, something that gave my creative spirit joy. But there was time.
|The old tracks filled with pine trees.(2009)|
1994 was a time in life when everybody was still here. I had never experienced loss. I didn’t know the deep and permanent scars that can be left in your heart when you lose someone, whether just from your life or from this earth entirely. I sit back now and think about all that I didn’t know about the world and I wish I could go back there. I think about things I didn’t know about people, places, and things, and wish I could go back there.
1994 was an innocent time. School was relatively easy albeit time-consuming. Life was cluttered with amazing friends. It was filled with fun times when fun times were so simple and basic and the worries were not real worries. Did I finish my homework? Does that girl like me? Do I have enough money to buy anything good at the corner store?
I was lucky enough to live in an area that allowed me to walk through quiet streets, through some secluded wooded pathways, and to a tiny strip mall where my friends and I would buy soda, chips, and candy.
There were abandoned railroad tracks and sandy paths running under rows of power lines. We’d walk the tracks, or sneak onto the nearby golf course. I’d feel like I was on an adventure but never felt worried or threatened by life. The world was happy. The world was safe. Along those railroad tracks, along those sandy paths, along the golf course were untold numbers of pine trees, big and tall, or short and stubby. The joy I felt in those times, on those adventures, and in life in general, was captured and contained in the smell of the pine. While I was making those long-lasting positive memories the scent of the pine seeped into my subconscious.
I didn’t notice it much until the last few years. Ironically they have been filled with loss and instability. The world doesn’t feel happy. The world doesn’t feel safe. I’ve lost countless family members and friends. I’ve faced adult choices and adult demons that make me long for the time-consuming school days of 1994.
It feels like in the last few years the universe has known I’ve needed some peace of mind and thus the smell of the pine came to the forefront. I can be sitting at a park, walking the bike trail, or like today walking across a parking lot to someone’s house and I’ll catch a whiff. Suddenly it’s 1994 again.
It’s 1994, I’m sixteen, and I can visit any of my grandparents whenever I want. I can pick up the phone and call friends and make plans to ‘hang.’ Or I could grab my bike and ride to someone’s house, or to the corner store, and bask in the fleeting feelings of youth. The future lay out before me like a sunny highway. Nothing seemed uncertain, nothing to fear. Dreams were larger than regret. Living the good old days we didn’t know were good yet.
This is not an isolated experience. There are other scents that bring back other types of memories. But the pine is the most intense. It sparks a nostalgic flame that I welcome each time. It’s as if the scent of the pine was a fine wine I gathered back then to break out on special occasions.
Sit back and think. What scents take your mind somewhere? Why do you think that is the case? If you’re wondering how something like memory-inducing scents happen check out this article.
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Thursday, September 1, 2022
In My Footsteps Podcast Episode 83: The Buried Treasure of Mabel Simpkins, Old School New England Convenience Stores, 90s Advertising Mascots, Road Trip Dennis MA(9-1-2022)
Friday, August 26, 2022
This legendary establishment along the high-traffic Route 28 in Yarmouth had a dedication to great entertainment and terrific food. Its status as a place to be was in part thanks to the tireless efforts of its larger-than-life owner. For nearly two decades, George “Dorsie” Carey ran his eponymous steak house in two separate locations along Route 28, creating buzz around town with his entertainment and cuisine.
Carey had come to the Cape from Dorchester. And no, this was not how he got the nickname Dorsie. That nickname was bestowed on him by his niece while they were living in the same three-story building in the historic Boston neighborhood. She could not pronounce the name George, and as it usually came out “Dorsie,” the name stuck with him. Carey had another nickname that became the name of a restaurant—“Handlebar Harry”—due to his handlebar mustache. He opened Handlebar Harry’s in Plymouth with his wife, Louise Houston, in 1991.
|Dorsie's when it was still the Gay Nineties.|
Dorsie’s began as a much smaller restaurant located at 183 Route 28 in West Yarmouth, near the iconic Mill Hill Club in 1974. Business took off over the next few years. The landlord of the property decided after the 1978 season to increase the rent for the property by 400 percent, from $8,500 per month to $35,000. This shocking increase set off a chain reaction that ended up taking Dorsie’s to new heights.
Carey searched all along Route 28, from Hyannis to Bass River, in the hopes of finding a new location. One of his regular customers at the restaurant was, in fact, the owner of an establishment called the Gay Nineties located half a mile away on Route 28. After hearing of Carey’s plight, the owner sold the Gay Nineties building to him on a handshake. On the night of July 3, 1979, Carey, his staff, close friends, and some of the Yarmouth Police worked through the night and moved all of the equipment from the original Dorsie’s down the street and into its new home.
“We were opened July Fourth,” Carey proudly reflected, “although there was no food service until July Fifth.”
The hard work of finding the new location paid off.
The new, larger Dorsie’s had a lot more space for patrons and entertainment. There were three unique function rooms at this location. There was the Cranberry Room, which was located over the main dining room. It was totally self-contained and seated 60 people. There was the Nineties Room, which had an 1890s motif as a nod to the former Gay Nineties Restaurant. This sat 200 people. Finally, there was the Waterwheel Room, which was the primary function room. It sat an impressive 350 people and was complete with its own banquet kitchen.
There was always something going on as far as entertainment went at Dorsie’s, including an up-and-coming Jay Leno plying his trade in the Waterwheel Room. Leno had been contracted to play another legendary establishment in West Dennis called the Golden Anchor. However, that place was sold before he could perform, so Leno’s contract was given to Dorsie’s. He was given the gate while the restaurant kept what the bar brought in.
|The front entrance|
Diane Dexter, who played piano and sang at Dorsie’s starting in 1981, has fond memories of her time playing there as well as the man behind it all.
“I worked in their main lounge on a grand piano as a solo act,” she recalled, “playing and singing standards and pop/folk/country/rock songs that were popular at the time.”
Dexter also recalls the Dorsieland Ragtime Review, a Dixieland band that played in the Gay Nineties Room and was a very popular attraction. As for Carey himself, Dexter remembered that he was “always very good with people.”
The one thing that put Dorsie’s over the top was its affordably priced food. The establishment did a tremendous liquor business, which Carey wisely reinvested in his menu. Marinated steak tips, steak teriyaki, and prime rib were the biggest sellers, made even better by the fact that the meat would be cut and cooked at the Pit, right out in the dining room. Customers could watch while their food was prepared before their eyes. It only added to the uniqueness of Dorsie’s.
After years of successfully running his mid-Cape complex, Carey yearned for a change. He got that chance when Cordage Park in Plymouth, which converted buildings into a mall in the 1980s, came calling. Carey sold Dorsie’s in 1990, and it became a Lambert’s Farm Market. In 1991, Carey opened Handlebar Harry’s, which became the anchor of the mall. It was tremendously popular in its own right and ran until 2003.
Today, George “Dorsie” Carey is retired, but even more than thirty years after Dorsie’s closed its doors, he still has people coming up to him and wanting to reminisce about those good old days. As of 2022, Antiques Center of Yarmouth stands where Dorsie’s once did.
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