Every once in a while, a “what’s it” turns out to be the last physical reminder of a page of an episode in the history of our fair town. The ruins on Cornelius Island, the concrete and brick chimney on Old Baptist Road and the mill foundations on Featherbed Lane are artifacts such as this; they are all the last tangible reminders of something that was an important aspect of North Kingstown’s history many years ago.
This was Ken Mumford’s time of the year. After a long winter of caring for his dogs and horses, tuning up and sharpening his mowers, and tending to his wagon, hitch, harnesses, and bridles; spring, and then summer, would be upon him and Ken would mosey into action.
Reliable emergency medical transportation is something we take for granted these days. Especially in these COVID19 days, we all rest comfortably knowing that an EMT and an ambulance are just a 911 phone call away. But things weren’t always that way. This week we are going to take a look at how this vital public service began in our fair town.
Last week’s piece by Rob Duguay on the reopening of the Odeum Theatre in nearby East Greenwich got me to thinking about that wonderful place and what it has meant over the years, not only to the residents of East Greenwich, but all of us in South County as well.
The very recent hoopla surrounding the local Republican Party request to have the Providence statue of Christopher Columbus relocated to North Kingstown really saddens me.
So much about this house, including the name associated with it – the Baker homestead, is misleading. You see, this home, or at least the core of it, was already nearly half a century old when the first Baker moved in.
This fine little home was constructed somewhere around 1800 for James Cooper on land that had already been in the inter-related Cooper-Updike family for many years.
No matter how much time goes by, every time I pass by Razee’s Motorcycles, my mind is going to wander back to a time more than 40 years ago.
John and Jane (Gerrish) Warburton were daring souls. Daring enough to take their clan of 9 children and leave their home in Trowbridge, England, climb aboard a ship and sail to America and take a chance in this, the land of opportunity. The year was 1875 and we can only imagine what was going through the collective minds of the big family.
I lost a friend last week, and it’s gotten me into a reflective mood. I really did not know Philip Dyer well enough to suit me and that is truly my loss. What I know of him informs me that he was a fine and gifted soul possessed of an inquisitive mind, a kind nature and joy for living.
You know, I think its safe to say that Irving “Bud” Patterson took to golf like a duck takes to water. Born in Providence in March of 1920, he became a North Kingstown resident while still a toddler when his father, Irving Sr. and mother Lucie (Carroll) moved here with their family.
Memorial Day weekend, an annual milestone of sorts—the unofficial beginning of the summer season; it’s a day associated with that first trip to the beach, a barbecue with friends and family, and, or yeah, that parade business.
Back in the middle of the 1930s, the automobile was becoming pretty common place on the roads of our fair town. What was once, just a decade or so earlier, a rare sight in a horse-and-buggy world was now so prevalent that it was causing unforeseen problems.
Regular readers of this column over the last 21 years may remember that, from time to time when I get bored, I revert back to my 12-year old self and revel in the joys of writing from that long ago perspective.
Long before Alcoholics Anonymous was even thought of, there was the Temple of Honor. The Temple of Honor, along with its sister organization The Women’s Christian Temperance Union, were the spearheads of the Temperance/Prohibition Movement which swept across the country during the end of the 1800s.
The recent demolition of the circa 1888 Belleville district schoolhouse on Oak Hill Road has got me thinking about the little forgotten mill village of Belleville and some of the unique stories that originated from this little hamlet. The rise of James R. Wilson is one of those tales.
After more than 45 years of enjoying the splendor of the heavens, I still look forward to a simple yet rewarding observing experience watching “burning rocks” falling from the sky. I’m referring to a meteor shower.
“What’s in a name? That which we call a July Full Moon
By many other names would shine as bright.”
My apologies to William Shakespeare, but I simply couldn’t resist mangling the above famous quote from Romeo and Juliet.
As spring migration winds to a close and the breeding birds focus their attention on bringing another generation into the world, we often focus our attention on the birds that are raising their chicks in nests close to our homes. We celebrate our daily observations of cardinals and robins and finches, for instance, and we note their progress from nest building to egg laying to hatching to the fledging of their chicks.