Just a few months ago, an anniversary of sorts here in our fair town was reached. For it was 215 years ago, at the end of November, that the region’s first bank, the Narragansett Bank of Wickford opened its doors to the public for the first time.
The four little houses that run from 5 to 35 Washington Street have seen a lot of history in their two hundred years or so of existence.
Regardless of whether we are all aware of it or not, North Kingstown, is now poised upon the end of an era. I take note of it each week as I read the local obituaries (an almost uncontrollable habit had by both people who are beginning to feel their years and by folks brought up in the undertaker’s trade – two groups to which I belong) or reach out to members of our senior citizenry for information about our fair town’s past.
Regular readers of this column are most certainly aware that Rough Rider and United States President Theodore Roosevelt was a frequent visitor to our fair town back around the turn of the last century.
Thankful Union, the minute I first saw that name I just knew there had to be a special story associated with it.
Last week, we stopped and pondered the life and times of 19th century black barber Uriah Weekes. Today we will examine the tragic death of another of our fair town’s black residents in the 19th century; a man who spent much of his life as a slave working on the dairy farm that once was located at Rome Point, Cato Roome.
This week, we are going to delve into the story of Uriah Weeks, one of the first barber/hairdressers who served the large black community that lived here in South County during the middle part of the 19th century.
This house was constructed some time around 1831, as the second home located on a large parcel of land Nichols purchased in April of 1830 from his commanding officer in the RI State Militia, General Peter B. Phillips and his wife, Phebe Phillips.
The recent renovations to the little Cape at 264 West Main St. are hinting at something that real estate transactions since the 1770s have long supported. This house is very old.
One of the questions I am most often asked is, “What’s the story with that big cellar hole next to the library?”
It is with considerable sadness that I pen this column this week as it has been a sorrowful time; two folks very important to me and the greater community of our fair town have recently passed on.
Well, here we are again, with our nineteenth attempt to tally up the most endangered historic sites in our fair town for the 12 months ahead.
Harold Metcalf was born in Providence in 1861 and earned medical degrees from Brown University and Harvard University.
A little over 110 years ago, on June 25, 1904, at a time long before environmental impact studies and building permit requirements, the rail wars of South County officially began.
Over the years we’ve taken a look at the inns and taverns of old Wickford, the grand hotels at Cold Spring and Saunderstown, and the area’s first true motel run by local character Bob Bean.
Sometimes delving into the stories behind the gravestones located in the historic cemeteries of our fair town leads to tales and life lessons that play out as affirmations to the spirit and resilience of those that came before us.
A little more than 90 years ago, in a barred spiral galaxy named the Milky Way, a stellar system named Sol had a retinue of eight known planets revolving around it.
The freezing temperatures in February make it difficult to force myself out the door after dark. And knowing that I’ll be standing around outside for extended periods while trying to stay completely silent doesn’t make it any easier. But hearing just one distant hoot warms my bones and makes the experience worthwhile.
When guests visit the local observatories, staff astronomers always look to impress them with great views of the Moon, Jupiter, Saturn and Mars when any of these worlds are observable.
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