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In early 1973 my friend Bob Bernacki introduced me to Alex McCurdy and his girlfriend, Sharon Richards. One night Bob and I drove over to a small, off-the-grid, cabin on Route 77 in Guilford, Connecticut. It was there I first met Sharon and Alex. We all got along well and I was very impressed with the cabin. I picked up a few ideas that I later applied to my log cabin in the woods. Sharon gave me an all-black kitten which I brought home to my mom who adored coal-black cats. He was named Buttons and lived with my mom for another 21 years.
In the autumn of 1974 Bob Bernacki and I visited Sharon again. She was living at her father's house on Long Hill Road in Guilford with her brother Ed and her dad. Ed was finishing up a technical education at Vinal Tech in Middletown, Connecticut. For the next 7 months, I was a part of Sharon's life and got to know her and Ed. Then we all went in different directions. I always remembered Sharon and considered her a close friend. Over the years our paths crossed a few times and we often shared Christmas cards and letters. The last time I saw her brother Ed back east, was on a warm and sunny summer day. He was living in Short Beach, a part of Branford, Connecticut, and working on an old school bus. Ed explained that he was going to sell tickets and drive cross country with the bus. Ed eventually moved to California and I much later went to Montana. Sharon kept the conversation going and eventually Ed and I agreed to meet at one of my winter camping spots in Arizona; River Island State Park near Parker, Arizona, and on the Colorado River. We shared stories, had several meals, and caught up on each other's life. Ed told me how he was slowly fixing up the house, his dad's old house, where Sharon and her two sons, Brooks and Chris, now lived. I thought it was a great idea and offered to assist. In the autumn of 2021 Ed and I got together again and started to work at Sharon's home on Long Hill Road in Guilford. We started by picking up supplies at the Home Depot in East Haven, Connecticut.
Tim, Ed, and Chandler in front of the new side porch. |
Primer coat for the new side porch. |
Tim painting door trim and priming the side porch beams. |
Over the next 10 days Ed, his oldest son Chandler and I finished the side porch, cleaned the outside of the gutters, installed a new gutter, cleaned the outside shingles, painted the shingles and the exterior trim. In the previous October Ed and Chandler built the side porch, installed some new cedar shakes, and new gutters, built a new cellar door and primed almost everything. This October Chandler helped on weekends and commuted from his home in New Jersey. Ed stayed at his younger sister's home in North Branford and I stayed at Motel 6 in Branford. Sharon's home looked great when we were done. The Benjamin Moore lemon yellow blended in perfectly with the green trees and grass. During mid-day, the sun cast mottled leaf shadows across the house which danced with the slightest breeze. My friend Claudette Dirkers helped to pick out the trim color. Claudette excels at interior design and the tan she suggested worked perfectly. It was magical how beautifully the tan gable and window/door trim highlighted the lovely lemon-yellow siding.
We worked almost every day from 9 to 5. Rainy days we had off. Once we got organized and into a pace of our own, the work went quickly. It only took us three days to paint the entire outside of the house. Another day Ed and Chandler built the gabled roof for the porch. Later I covered it with roll roofing and tarred everything. I also wired an outdoor spotlight. Another day I cleaned the outside of the gutters while Ed painted the front gable and window and door trim. We had a break in the morning for a snack, 30 minutes later for lunch, and another 30 minutes around 3. Sharon often made tea and once she gave us homemade cookies! Ed was the foreman and assigned tasks. I worked alone most of the time and kept productive all day. Chandler and Ed often worked together on tasks. Together they figured out difficult problems like how to cut notches for the 2x4 beams in the gabled roof. Both searched their iPhones for YouTube videos to show them how notches were cut.
Sharon thought the house looked beautiful and her mood noticeably brightened as we neared completion. The beauty we all created brought visible happiness to her and us. We were excited and talked about a new project for next October at Sharon's home. Maybe we will do a room or two inside? We have a few minor tasks to take care of outside too. I hoped that our hard work would inspire Sharon and her two 40-something-year-old sons to do the same. What few glances I captured of the inside of Sharon's home showed much work needed to be done. The yard, which I traveled through daily, was like something out of Appalachia. The garage had fallen and weeds were growing out of the rotting ruins. An abandoned, rusting truck and loads of trash sat next to the garage and young saplings were growing through that mess. An old horse trailer with flat tires rested in the driveway next to another broken-down truck. Spent truck oil filters sat in an overflowing tub of used engine oil. Rags and trash were scattered by the wind. Weeds and pricker bushes grew four feet high in the front yard. The backyard held pens for a pony and a llama. A goat ran free around the yard.
Over the next two weeks I retraced old footsteps and found a few new paths. I visited Center Cemetary where my Mom and Dad are buried. Their red granite gravestone was covered with light green lichen and mold. I had some bleach and a scrubbing sponge in the car. Water was nearby and in 30 minutes I had their gravestone and my Auth Catherines looking like new. Later I purchased a pot of yellow Mums for Mom and Dad. That brightened their gravesite considerably.
I drove along the shore starting in Pawson Park in Indian Neck. The houses were huge and packed on tiny parcels of land. Living "on the water" in Branford designates the person as someone accomplished and wealthy. A 1st rate kind of person who has arrived at a high point in social prestige.
The houses are generally quite tall, narrow, and with tiny side yards. Porches are set back from the road and often ornate in a Victorian manner. Colors are frequently bright, sometimes garish. The view over Long Island Sound is interesting. Oil tankers were always traveling past on their way to New Haven and that broke up the monotony of open water and clouds. Next, I passed through Pine Orchard, the "rich" area of town where the houses were even bigger but not as close together. One person had a huge rock garden for a front yard. Another lacked a waterfront so he dug a big hole in his front yard and filled it with water. He installed a fountain of sorts that was the type frequently used in sewage treatment ponds.
Across the street from the front yard pond was a much larger body of water and park once owned by the A M Young company. In 1971 they conveyed it to the Town of Branford. It slowly degenerated from a well-kept private estate to a well-used municipal park. One of the open fields is a "dog" park where prestigious breeds and mutts are allowed to run free. It is covered with dog poop and generally unruly and overpriced canines. I counted 22 purebreds in one afternoon. The dirt and gravel-potholed parking lot was filled with high-end European cars and SUVs from Sweden and Germany.
Property taxes are high for all Branford property owners and reach astronomical amounts for people who live near the water. But high taxes are not seen as a burden. Rather they are a badge of honor. Being able to pay tens of thousands of dollars per year for less than an acre of property in Branford is a sign that one has truly arrived at a high station in life. One resident said that "we are paying our fair share". He felt honored to be able to contribute to the community in such a meaningful manner. In 2022 over 40% of the US Federal Income tax collected was paid by less than 1% of the population.
Despite high property taxes the roads in Branford are a disappointment to anyone coming from a more modern environment. Part of the problem is that many of the roads were designed for cows and horses 200 years ago. They try to follow a level course but do so with little regard for straightness. The roads are often narrow, 20 feet or so, and lack a wider easement. There are a few sidewalks but most roads simply do not have room for them. The many twists and turns make for an ever-changing picturesque drive but one must travel slowly. Pedestrians, cyclists, and oncoming cars can be hidden by turns. Utility poles are often just three feet away from the pavement edge. They frequently get hit when the roads are icy or snow-covered. Or wires fall and block the roads during big storms.
The condition of the roads in Branford was generally poor. The asphalt on many roads had frequent alligator cracks and hundreds of patches. It was common to see newly surfaced roads that were dug up to repair sewers and other infrastructure. Sidewalks fared even worse. Some that I walked on as a paperboy in 1968 were now lifted even higher by bulging tree roots and frost. Others had disintegrated and were hot-patched with asphalt. One road that flooded with every full moon high tide in 1970 was flooded again when I visited in 2021. Instead of fixing the problem, a sign was erected that stated "Road subject to flooding".
This rock garden lawn will never need mowing. |
Front yard pond with a fountain. |
Young's Pond Park in Pine Orchard. |
In the 1970's Eagle Scouts Frank Twohill and Bob Baker designed and constructed a footpath from Pine Orchard to Stony Creek along the old Shoreline Trolley right of way. The trail has gone through a few upgrades and is widely used. Additional trails dot the eastern end and follow the cliffs along Pleasant Point road. I walked the trail to the center of Stony Creek and then visited the Willoughby Wallace library where I waited for the passing showers to cease.
The New Haven Trap Rock quarry has a private railroad line and barge terminal that sits on the Pine Orchard side of the marsh. The rail line heads north and connects to a quarry by Lake Gaillard in North Branford. One late winter I hiked along and camped by the private tracks when I visited many of the Connecticut Valley Trap rock ledges. That journey took me to Mount Fowler on the blue Mattabesset trail. Other hiking trips brought me further north to Mount Beseck, Chauncey Peak, the Hanging Hills, and Ragged Mountain south of Hartford.
Small islands dot the Stony Creek and Pine Orchard shorelines. Called the Thimbles they are the most expensive real estate in Branford and the sole province of mega-millionaires and maybe a billionaire or two. Modest summer homes dotted them when I was a child growing up in Branford. Some of the tiny islands have barely enough room for a small house. Some lack trees and even fertile soil. Few offer privacy or a modicum of solitude. The area around the islands is frequently packed with boats and small yachts. Summer weekends are especially noisy and busy.
New Haven Trap Rock barge terminal in Pine Orchard. |
Tiny islands dot the shore off Stony Creek. |
400 Million-year-old cliffs surround a vibrant swamp. |
When I was a young boy, around 12, I delivered the afternoon newspaper to 70 or so residents in my neighborhood. On Saturday morning I would visit each of them, greet them with a cheerful "collecting for the New Haven Register", and collect 70 cents for the week's delivery of news. I paid 67 cents for their newspapers and got to keep all tips. In 5 years I earned $1,800.00.
I enjoyed seeing how other people lived, and what their houses and yards were like. It was a weekly glimpse into the lives of 70 different homes that ranged from rat-infested factory housing to beautiful estates. Quite a wide range for a six-block area of Branford.
My favorite place to visit was the home of our family doctor; Richard Rosenthal. I always put the paper in his mailbox at the end of his long, picturesque, and winding driveway. On Saturday I rode my bike to the top of the driveway, went around back to the kitchen door, and rang the bell. Usually, his sister answered. She was always pleasant and asked how I was doing. I was polite and thanked her. On my way down the driveway, I slowed to enjoy the cool air, the quiet landscape, and the peaceful feeling that permeated the small estate. Once or twice I wandered around the gardens that surrounded two small ponds in the front yard. I sat under the arched Japanese bridge and thought about trolls I had read about! None were here. All was quiet and peaceful. The manmade ponds shimmered under the bright sun. Dragonflies and water bugs buzzed around. It was an idyllic retreat that I fell in love with.
Dr. Rosenthal and I grew older. I stopped delivering papers when I was in 9th grade. Dr. Rosenthal married and about 25 years later, passed away. By that time I had moved to Montana. His widow offered the estate to the Town of Branford for low-income housing. The beautiful Georgian Mansion was converted to house five families. Then they built a sprawling vinyl-sided McMansion and crammed 12 more living units into that. The ponds were filled with weeds by the time I visited in 2021.
When I built my new house in 2006 I was influenced by Dr. Rosenthal's home. I too wanted a beautiful and spacious home surrounded by nature's beauty. I remembered how peaceful and serene his estate was and I used that as a benchmark for my home and yard. Unfortunately, his slice of heaven was forever changed when the town took it over.
Dr. Richard Rosenthal's lovely Georgian mansion. |
Pathway and a replacement bridge that used to separate two beautiful ponds. |
The house is a tenement and the ponds have filled with weeds. |
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Page 3 Vanishing Branford |
Tim's Life Main Table of Contents |
Pursuit of Happiness Table of Contents |
Page 5 Happiness is a Good Walk |
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