[Note: A map of the Sacred Sites will be available shortly from the Amenia
Historical Society. If anyone in Sharon is interested in pursuing a
project similar to this for Sharon’s sacred site, please contact Marge
McAvoy at the Historical Society (364-5688) or Liz Shapiro, via e-mail,
at:
lizgshapiro@yahoo.com]
New
& Noteworthy
Aided by an unusually mild autumn, work on Phase I of the Sharon Valley
Lime Kiln was completed on Wednesday, December 12. This stage
included a preliminary review of the structure and site, an archaeological
study of the kiln, an engineering assessment and development of plans,
tree and brush removal, excavation around the site to the original ground
level, cleaning and pointing of voids in the rock faces and replacement
of the 120 year-old timber binders. Upon completion of the work, the top
of the structure was covered with plywood and the entire kiln covered
with industrial reinforced plastic. Work on the kiln stack was accomplished
by masons “Ziggy” Swieton and Joe Aulicino of the Ganem
Contracting Corporation, a restoration contractor based in Clifton Park,
New York.
Funding for the Phase I cost of $49,443 plus administrative, engineering
and archaeological fees was provided from a LoCIP (Local Capitol
Improve Program) grant of $25,000 through the Town of Sharon and $40,000
from a local foundation.
Part of the original study for the project included an archaeological review
of the kiln’s historic links to eighteenth and nineteenth century
industry in the Sharon Valley Historic District. This work, conducted by
Industrial Archaeologist Victor Rolando and S.H.S President Ed Kirby,
began in late fall with excavations at the ruins of the Sharon Valley Iron
Company blast furnace, a study of the foundation of the adjoining wheel
house and house foundations east of the Webutuck Creek, and a study of the
tail race from the former Jewett Manufacturing Company. Work at
these sites will continue on these sites this spring.
In the
coming months it is the desire of the Kiln Committee to complete Phases
II and III. Phase II, the cleaning and restoration of the kiln
interior will cost $24,776; Phase III, bringing the structure back to its
original height, $20,000. For those parts of the project, and funding for
Phase IV (protective capping), cosmetic ground work and explanatory signs,
the town has applied for a S.T.E.A.P. (Small Town Economic
Assistance Program) Grant. This grant program provides potential funding
for towns with populations under 30,000 and not designated as a
distressed municipality and not having an urban center. Under S.T.E.A.P.
guidelines concerning eligible project types, the kiln qualifies as a
“pilot historic preservation and redevelopment program(s) that leverage
private funds… .”
In late March the application will be raised by the Office of Policy Management
to the Connecticut Bond Commission for further consideration.
The potential for receiving a grant appears to rest on the quality of applications
from other small towns. Should a S.T.E.A.P. Grant be received,
there will be money to complete the project; if not, application will be
made for an addition to the LoCIP Grant with an effort to find matching
funds.
Ed Kirby
From
the Field
Two weeks ago my seven-year old son B.J. and I took a trip to the historic
town of Astoria, Oregon. One of the oldest towns in the state, Astoria
was established in 1811 when John Jacob Astor’s fur trading company
set up an outpost at the place where the Columbia River flows into the
Pacific Ocean, a treacherous seafaring area called the “Graveyard of
the Pacific”. A traditional meeting place for indigenous American tribes,
Astoria’s location became famous in American history as the westernmost
terminus of the famous Lewis and Clark Expedition. The Corps of
Discovery arrived on the northwest coast in the winter of 1805 and spent
nearly five months in the area just south of the Columbia River,
preparing for their return trip. To provide shelter during the wet and cold
winter, the Corps built Fort Clatsop, named after the local Indian tribe,
which today is operated as a National Monument featuring a museum and re-creation
of the original wooden fort. The town’s prosperity from
later fishing and logging industries is well illustrated by its splendid
collection of Victorian era residential and commercial buildings, featuring
two historic districts, as well as a cannery row at the riverfront.
Needless to say, even in mid-February (and we had one sunny day with temperatures
in the high 50s!) Astoria is a mecca for tourists. B.J. and I
had a wonderful time exploring the famous Astoria Column – with an
observation deck reaching 125 feet into the sky; the beaches – where
you
can practically walk out to the wooden remains of the 1906 wreck of the
ship Peter Iredale; Fort Stevens Park; Clatsop County Historical
Society; the high-Victorian (1890) Flavel House Museum and the Firefighters
Museum. But our favorite tourist experience was the Columbia
River Maritime Museum.
If you know anything about my family, you know that I am predisposed to
like maritime museums. I’ve mentioned my father’s love of military
history in past columns, but he also loved maritime history. Naturally,
as children, my sisters and I had to claim a hatred for anything associated
with water – especially the kinds of objects found in maritime museums!
From scrimshaw corset stays to brass capstans, from meticulously
detailed ship models to barometers, I was unmoved. Even a roomful of artfully
displayed figureheads which could transport my father into his
Horatio Hornblower alter-ego, would only elicit yawns from his distinctly
unappreciative offspring. So what could explain this remarkable
transition? Easy. Like many adults, I admit to a love affair with the familiar,
reminiscent, rosy days of my childhood. So I go to maritime
museums, and I drag my family with me, and I love it. (And parenthetically,
sources tell me that my sisters do the same thing!)
The Columbia River Maritime Museum is the only nationally accredited maritime
museum on the northwest coast. The exhibits, on shipwrecks,
lighthouses, fishing, navigation and naval history, were well-crafted and
the information presented was clear and well-written. A highlight for B.J.
was the chance to sit on the real chair in the real, reconstructed bridge
of a World War II destroyer. This exhibit effectively used photographs of
the crew at work and play, in conjunction with news clippings from WWII,
to illustrate life on a destroyer. Judging by the time spent turning nobs
on the complex control panel, and the vast number of questions from B.J.,
the exhibit was particularly thought-provoking and engaging.
But the ultimate experience of the visit was a chance to board and tour
the lightship Columbia, which once guided ships to safety over the
dangerous Columbia River Bar. As we crossed the gangplank in the driving
rain and wind onto the deck of the ship, it was like crossing into a
foreign land. We stooped and climbed carefully down the steep metal staircase
into the ship’s living and work area. We sat on the red
leatherette benches at the tables where the crew had their meals, climbed
into the bunk beds in the tiny and none-too-private sleeping quarters,
and marveled at the size of the shower stalls (could you actually turn around?).
And all the while, the boat was rocking up and down at the dock
on the choppy Columbia River – in a glance out the portholes next to
the dock I gauged the boat’s movement to be about eighteen inches up
and
down with the waves, enough to force us to reach out for balance as we walked
the narrow passages. The 17-member crew would live
three-miles off-shore for three months at a time in horrendous weather.
As we emerged into the rain on the deck, B.J. grabbed my hand and
said, “Momma, I could never have lived on that boat. How did they do
that?” As a mom and a museum director, I rejoiced. My son understood,
he
empathized, he had come to a new self-realization. The museum experience
is a powerful thing.
The Columbia River Maritime Museum not only met my need for delightful recollection,
it provided a terrific museum experience. As a museum
professional, new museums offer a refresher course in museum studies, a
laboratory to watch the visitor and his experience, and a source of
new ideas. But most of all, visiting museums reminds me that the joy of
museums is watching the visitor learn and interact with the real thing,
the
actual objects of history. That kind of learning is never forgotten
Liz Shapiro
