Then and Now: Time Travel ‘He Thought It Was The Nest of A Bird’
We met in the morgue.
The late Lynne Turdin at work mining the archives/library for the rich history contained within the Record-Journal, then at Crown Street, Meriden, CT. She was a most fascinating person and the building is not there anymore. Never got old, using a swing door to enter into the sanctum of reporters and editors, photographers and sports writers. A warren of offices, nooks, crannies and a listening so intense it could be felt. So many questions. That day it was researching the history of Highland Country Club, a golf course grown up to pines in Westfield. Memories of a long-ago field trip with family to unearth where Highland buried its not wanted stuff, bottles, odd things. A salamander winding its way through the uncovered objects. Decades later that sparked a story pitch and related excursions. Digging of another sort. Stories.
Lynne is gone. Warren Gardner. Dick McBride. Each of these humans, a library of knowledge, deep reserves of history so willingly shared.
“Black ink was pumped in from a tank truck parked on Crown Street, and colored ink came in 55-gallon drums. Huge rolls of newsprint were fed into it from beneath, carried by a trolley system. Alas, the press was scrapped, and the paper is now printed in Springfield.
“My first night on the job, the street exploded, with manhole covers flying and flames belching out of the ground. We had to put the paper together at The Middletown Press. Ah, the good old days.
—Glenn Richter (Richter, also gone, but not forgotten; a column by Jeff Kurz.)
This carefully folded print version of “This Week In History” by Lynne Turdin (July 2005) is pinned on the wall over my desk. Imagine a young girl walking from Arch Street to visit her father at Chalker & Fenn, sometimes because of the itch of poison ivy. The water of the blacksmith's cooling tank was reputedly soothing to the rash, hence my mother's story recalled of her visits to the shop on Mill Street, Meriden. Looking at the image now; see the technology transferred from equine to vehicles powered by fuel not horses. And the repairs would still be required, the ingenuity of fixing and finding solutions in metal.
Am wandering while writing, bear with me. Innovations still happening. In a pupating mode of life; change and growth call for energies. And stillness.
A long-ago passage from a book comes to mind, about a fossilized nest that was found in a quarry, but before it could be taken to a scientist for examination, a torrential rain dissolved the formation.
On a local library shelf, a slim book. Local history research, so many years ago about a quarry, a dam, mills and factories. Learning yet again that original sources speak clearly. As in the children's game of “telephone” over the years a story can blur and gain wordiness, lose meaning taking all in.
Inside the pages, this:
“To-day, an observing person will notice them as he walks along the dam. A formation in the shape of a nest, six inches deep, four feet in diameter, and apparently showing the impression of three eggs, was found during the work. Father had it carefully laid aside and planned to carry it to Wesleyan University, but during a heavy thunder shower, it became partially filled with water and the walls crumbled in. This was a great disappointment to him, for he thought it was the nest of a bird and wanted it examined by a person competent to decide.”
Not a bird. A relative from deep time, long ago.
A a dinosaur nest in Baileyville, Connecticut. How can this be? After jaw drop, thinking if there was one, can there be others? (More about tracking it down as research leads to more discoveries.)
Shall we go? Chart a course, head out. Remember that every “no” is a redirect. Listen and pay attention. Be kind.
Gazing out the window all these thoughts combine and my hands want a keyboard to get words out. But the weekend approached, with a choice to go visit a place so far away, it was once deemed impossible to drive there in the family station wagon. Much has changed in the years that passed. So, goal and destination set. Connecting communities, telling stories, small businesses. Tap, tap, tap. Wait. We are there.
Schooner Amistad. #NewHaven https://t.co/gLgVr61gMK
— Moo Dog Press (@MooDogPress) June 18, 2022
Wind knocked loose a nest, now weathered to bits on a chopping block stump. One ideas sparks a slew of them. Write down the details, date, source, context. Include your name, date, sources.