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Behind the pages

 

      After looking at old black and white photos and watching old television series,  my children once asked me if there was no color back then. Of course I replied, "No,everything  was faded like the old photographs"  Thus the dull background for these pages, in keeping with the times of old.

     I live in the middle of nowhere on a hill that is practically inaccessible in the summer, nigh impossible in the winter. Our weather resembles that of Burke Mountain, Vermont, which is not too far away. We have moose and deer that roam through our yard, as well as an occasional bear.

     My mother was the last member of our family remaining in Dixfield. After her death, I brought all the family    memories and mementos to my little utopia. I recently realized that my family history is that of Dixfield itself.

     As I sort through the boxes of materials I find photos with no names or dates. Who were these people? Why were the photos saved? Who saved them? I wonder what happened to all the people mentioned in the newspapers and to Melissa's classmates of 1892. I know that the Ludden Memorial Library was established from the Verdurina Ludden Trust Fund in 1939 (1935-on another site) - Miss Ludden was Melissa's teacher, as shown in that 1892 photo.

     I wasn't aware of any of this on my first trip to the Library (I always think of it in capital letters). Melissa took me there when I was wee little and it became my favorite place from that day. The books were stacked in narrow rows all the way to the ceiling. There was a roll-around ladder that you could climb to reach the top. The checkout desk was raised on a platform and I couldn't see the person behind it. I would stretch on my tiptoes and push the books up with my fingertips, one by one to be stamped. Then an arm would appear from the side with my choices. Occasionally the librarian came down to the floor - a very old man - although everyone seemed old to me at the time. There's a bookstore in Lyndonville, VT that has the same dusty, musty odor and their stacks go to the ceiling - my favorite bookstore, of course. (From a Dixfield city directory in 1949 - the Librarian was Erwin Taylor. Census records list his name with various spellings: Irwin L. Taylor, Erwin L. Tayler -  but he was born in 1873 to Daniel G. and Addie M. (Lovejoy) Taylor. He was a first cousin to Leona Taylor mentioned below, and a 2nd cousin to Melissa Babb Brackett.) 

     I keep Klaus's history book in the small roll-top desk that belonged to Klaus and that Melissa treasured. Their wedding album is stored there, too. The photos are kept in my grandmother's sewing hassock; the family
linens - including my great-great grandmother's tablecloth and napkins -  are kept in the blanket chest made by my great-great grandfather. I treasure all these things - if I didn't know the owners personally then I knew of them from listening to stories told by grandparents and great uncles and aunts. I feel as if I knew them all.

     For some strange reason, I just want to know about everybody mentioned in these materials. I will find all the unidentified people in those old photographs -  after all, someone in my family cared about them enough to keep their pictures, which makes it important to me.

     Like H. W.. Park, I was born in Dixfield, and have memories of the occupants of the houses that were standing then.  However, when I first roamed the village, my hand was clasped in Melissa Brackett’s as she took me to visit “the old folk.”

     Klaus K. Brackett died before I was born. As he and Melissa had no children of their own, Melissa lived alone in the upstairs apartment. She rented the lower level to the Mastermans; Mrs. Masterman, being confined to a wheelchair, could not negotiate stairs.   I do not recall, or perhaps never knew, their given names.  Melissa and her sisters were examples of an old-fashioned education. People older than oneself were referred to by their  proper title and surname. In the old Dixfield newspapers I’ve found many instances of this.  The sisters also considered it their duty to educate any young folk within their pervue. Proper grammar and behavior was expected at all times from even the youngest child. Nicknames and slang were never allowed.  Answering the phone with “Hi” was unacceptable and no response was forthcoming from the other end until the proper form “Hello” was used.  By the amount of time spent waiting for a response to the “Hi” the caller was readily discerned.

THE BRACKETT HOUSE

     I don't know the date of this photo but I think the automobile in the drive was relatively new at the time.

  We would leave her house on Main St. by the side door, the one shown above.  The front entry was used only under special circumstances, as was the parlor located at that end of the house.  I think the parlor was used for viewing  the body after the demise of an individual.  Otherwise, it was used for special guests visiting on Sundays.

     We would turn left on the sidewalk of Main St and head toward the old post office building, usually the very first stop. We knew this building as the Taylor building - it was owned by Leona Taylor, who kept an apartment on the upper level to use when she came to town. You entered the post office from the front, which faced Main St. If we were visiting Miss Taylor, Melissa's cousin, we went around to the stairway on the side. Miss Taylor was a teacher in Connecticut. She, like so many women in those days, chose to remain single. Leona traveled a great deal, and Melissa occasionally accompanied her.( I have finally discovered that Leona's grandfather and Melissa's grandfather were twins, and that Leona's full name was Florence Leona Taylor. Leona was a high school teacher in Dixfield in 1920.)  Florence Leona Taylor's Ancestry.

 

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