Mrs. Van Hoesen’s scrapbook, 1910s-1940s

The month of May is both National Scrapbooking Month and International Storytelling Month.  Those go together quite nicely, I think, and to illustrate that, here is a charming little scrapbook from our archives: Ethel Grove Van Hoesen’s album, titled “Living and Teaching in Maryland from 1917 to 1940.”

The album has stamped suede covers and a plastic spiral binding; a label in the back informs us that it was purchased from Edward F. Gruver Co., “Paper Rulers and Book Binders,” in DC.  Inside is a mix of photos, newspaper clippings, and paper ephemera, often accompanied by handwritten notes and explanations.  The first few pages – clearly meant as an introduction to “Life and Teaching in Maryland” – contain poems about gardening, teachers, homes, and retirement, plus a 1934 highway map of the county, and the lyrics to “Maryland My Maryland.”  Though there is some order to the contents, the scrapbook has the appearance of having been created all at once, from a stash of saved bits and pieces; one page, for example, consists of a snapshot dated 1922, a 1930 map of Capitol View, and a newspaper “fun fact” from the Washington Evening Star, November 22, 1939.  Other pages are more traditional photo-album style, with chatty little descriptions.

“Not good pictures – but from left to right Anne – Helen Rector – Ethel Van Hoesen. 2d row – Sophie [her daughter-in-law] – Margaret – Elizabeth. 3rd row – Sophie Philip [her granddaughter] – Minnie -.  Brad [her son] taking the picture”

Both Ethel Grove and her husband Fred Van Hoesen were born in Franklinville, NY in 1870.  They married in 1892, and had one son, James Bradley (“Brad”).  Mr. Van Hoesen first trained as a clergyman, but he switched careers at some point, and in 1917 he was appointed as the first Cooperative Extension Agent in Montgomery County.  (More about the Extension Service, and Mr. Van Hoesen’s work, can be found here.)  The family lived in Rockville for several years; after Mr. Van Hoesen’s 1924 death, Mrs. Van Hoesen moved with her son’s family to Forest Glen.

” The station and Post Office [at Forest Glen] as it looks today (1943).  No longer bevies of young ladies crowd its platform; but in their stead groups of convalescent soldiers dot the spacious N.P.C. grounds.  N.P.C. [National Park College] beloved by many ‘old girls’ has been bought by the Gov’t.  It houses hundreds of soldiers wounded in every battle of this global war.”

Mrs. Van Hoesen was a life-long teacher.  Her obituary states that she began teaching at age 18; an 1892 Franklinville census shows that she was still teaching shortly after her marriage.  The 1910, 1920, and 1930 censuses all give her occupation as “teacher, public school.”  In Montgomery County she taught at Woodside, Bethesda, Slidell, and Cabin John Elementary Schools.  When she was appointed to the one-room Slidell school in 1930, she moved upcounty (Slidell is in the Barnesville/Beallsville/Dickerson vicinity) to a farmhouse called “Sky View.”  The scrapbook includes many photos of the house, school, and neighborhood, and several pages are taken up with handwritten lists of her students for each year.
“Slidell School April 5, 1934 – with and without the teacher” (Can you spot Mrs. Van Hoesen?)

In 1939 the Slidell school was closed, and Mrs. Van Hoesen moved back downcounty to teach in Cabin John.  She retired in 1940 (though she continued to substitute-teach for a few years), and bought a house in Capitol View; she died in 1949, and was buried next to her husband in Franklinville, NY.  In the 1960s, Brad’s wife Sophie gave the Society a large collection of artifacts and archival material related to her in-laws, including this little book.
“‘Shady Nook’ A retired teacher buys a new home No 6 Lee St. Capitol View, Maryland. with summer shade”

Mrs. Van Hoesen saw a variety of life in the county, her adopted home.  She taught in both suburban and rural schools, and kept up with her students’ later lives, as demonstrated by the notations (“married Gladys Smith.”  “Poolesville High class ‘44.”) included in lists of pupils’ names. Her neighbors and friends, former students, colleagues of her husband from the Extension Service, people from her church, notable county residents, even Evalyn Walsh McLean (who evidently was “kind to Jack Thompson”) are represented through photos, wedding announcements, human interest stories, and obituaries.  There’s a magazine article about Sugarloaf Mountain, the program from the 1934 Annual Meeting of the Homemakers’ Clubs of Montgomery County, a drawing of White’s Ferry by her daughter-in-law, a “Barnaby” comic about washing machines, and snapshots of people, buildings, roads, and views that were important to the book’s creator.  Throughout, Mrs. Van Hoesen’s ink notations keep us informed of who did what and when: “The house was painted in 1932.” “This is where I go to church.” “Mr. Knott did not know he was getting in the picture – we are glad to have him – he was one of Slidell’s best friends.”  Though this scrapbook doesn’t necessarily read like a traditional narrative, it is telling us a story all the same.

A map, photo, and story about Sugarloaf Mountain.

“A few of my animal neighbors” in Slidell, 1930s.

A page of miscellany, including an article about a fellow Woodside teacher’s retirement; the 1936 marriage notice of Mr. Van Hoesen’s counterpart, former Montgomery County Home Demonstration Agent Blanche Corwin; and a 1930 campaign card for a “farmer, teacher, and business woman” running for office in Nebraska.  (I wish there was a handwritten note about Mrs. Himes, but I can see the possible connections to Mrs. VH’s life there.)

 

Roller skates, circa 1910s

Today we have a rather unusual pair of three-wheeled roller skates from the early 20th century.  They are made of metal, with hard-rubber treads on the wheels; each skate is 16 inches long, and weighs three pounds.

These babies were donated to us in rough shape; they were found in a Rockville basement during a building demolition (more on that in a bit).  The metal is rusted; the orange and black paint, what’s left, is flaking off; the rubber treads are deteriorated, dented and flattened.  Any original marks or labels are long gone.  One skate is missing its adjustable toe-cap, and the cap that remains is bent out of shape and useless.  Presumably there was some kind of strap at the rear, now gone, for the wearer’s ankles.

Without a maker’s mark, their general history is proving elusive.  The only other example I’ve found is this skate, in rather better condition – contrast the curled-down toe-cap, and the shinier paint job, with our pair – but still without a name.  My 1902, 1908 and 1927 Sears catalog reprints only advertise ‘regular’ strap-on quad skates (invented in 1863; earlier skates were in-line); no three-wheeled jobs to be had.  However, a patent search revealed a number of three-wheeled skate designs – similar to ours with one in front, two in back – all from the 1910s.  None are an exact match to our pair, but the concept (which never took off, I guess; this style, at least, appears rather cumbersome) seems to date to that decade.

The specific history of the skates is a little easier to trace.  Our catalog records indicate that they were donated by the Rockville Urban Renewal Project in the early 1970s, after being found in the basement of “Stein’s Store” during demolition.  The problem is that there wasn’t a “Stein’s Store.”  Presumably our cataloger meant either Stern’s Modern Furniture or Steinberg’s Department Store.  I’m inclined toward the latter, because Morris Stern opened his first store in 1926, perhaps a little late for our skates, whereas Steinberg’s opened in 1908.

Let’s say Steinberg’s, then, for now.  Lithuanian immigrant David Steinberg opened his grocery store in 1908, quickly adding clothing and accessories to his stock; the name was changed to Steinberg’s Department Store around 1930.  The building, which included the store on the ground floor and the family’s apartment above, was on East Montgomery Avenue in downtown Rockville. David and Bertha Steinberg raised three sons in their home over the shop: William, born 1910; Isadore, born 1913; and Joseph, born 1916.  The family (including son Joseph) ran the Department Store and several other shops until the 1960s, when Urban Renewal came and the old downtown shopping district was torn down to make way for a mall (now demolished in its turn). Steinberg’s was one of the last old buildings to go; it was razed in 1972.

Steinberg’s Department Store, the three-story brick building in the foreground, shortly before it was demolished in 1972. The building under construction is the Americana Centre. MCHS Library collections.

Though a lot of the skates’ poor condition can be attributed to basement-living for 50-odd years, the fact that there are pieces missing leads me to believe that they weren’t just forgotten store merchandise – these were used.  The proposed date of the skates, and the ages of the Steinberg sons, are a nice match; I think these were enjoyed by one or more boys, tooling around the sidewalks of Rockville.

***

These simple, if slightly mysterious, roller skates could serve as the jumping-off point to a wide variety of stories:  The history of roller skating.  Patents and inventions. The effects of time on metal and rubber.  Urban Renewal’s impact on the City of Rockville.  The life of the Steinberg family, the first Jewish family in Rockville.  The problems caused by a simple typo or mis-transcription (“Stein’s Store”) when researching the past.  So many directions to go in!  I charge you, blog readers, to look at objects both familiar and unfamiliar and think about the many stories, big or small, they can tell.

 

Railroad “Quarterly Commutation Ticket,” 1915

How did you get to work today?  Montgomery County residents have a variety of options: car, bus, Metro, MARC Train, bicycle, foot power, the internet.  What you choose depends on many variables, including where you are, where you’re going, what you need to bring with you, and how much each option costs per day. If you travel the same way most days, you’ve probably invested in a few things to make your commute a little easier and/or cheaper – car and office keys on the same ring, a bag for your bike helmet, an EZ Pass on your windshield, a Metro Smartcard or MARC monthly pass in the front of your wallet.

Here’s the 1915 version: a Quarterly Commutation Ticket for the B&O Railroad, valid for 180 rides between Gaithersburg and Washington, DC, from May through July.  It is a handy little pocket-sized cardboard folder, 4.5″ x 2.5″ (when folded), covered in green canvas.  Inside is a page where the conductor punched out the rides by number.  The text on the inside reads:

Baltimore & Ohio Railroad
Quarterly Commutation Ticket.
This ticket will entitle JB Ely
to 180 rides between Washington, D.C. and Gaithersburg, Md.
During the three months ending July 31, 1915
upon the conditions named on back hereof, which must be signed by purchaser before ticket is valid for passage.
88997                    O.P. McCandy, Passenger Traffic Manager

CONTRACT.
In consideration of the reduced fare at which this ticket was sold, I agree that its use shall be subject to the following conditions:
1. If presented by other than myself, or if any condition of this contract is violated, it becomes void, may be taken up by the conductor and fare collected.
2. It must be presented each trip to the conductor for cancellation, and is valid for the passage only on trains designated and advertised to stop regularly at stations named hereon.
3. It conveys no stop-over privilege and does not permit checking of baggage thereon.
4. The right of the company is conceded to change the time of arrival or departure of its trains, or to diminish their number at its option.
I, the original purchaser, hereby agree to above contract, and will sign my name and otherwise identify myself as such whenever called upon to do so by any conductor or agent of the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad, and on my failure or refusal this ticket shall thereafter become void.  [stamped] B&O RR Co May 1 1915 Agent Gaithersburg Md.

John Ball Ely (1875-1964) of Gaithersburg was an insurance agent.  On his 1918 draft card, he named his employer as the Equitable Life Insurance Co., on 14th Street, Washington, DC; he most likely worked for that firm, or for another downtown company, for most of his career.  Mr. Ely, originally from Harford County, married Essie M. L. Crawford (1882-1959) of Gaithersburg in 1906, and the couple stayed in that town the rest of their lives, living in various homes near the center of town on Park, Brooks, Russell, and Diamond Avenues.  Gaithersburg is conveniently located on the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad’s Metropolitan Line, which runs from Point of Rocks to DC by way of central Montgomery County.  What better way for Mr. Ely to reach his downtown job every day than by rail?

The text in the “CONTRACT” makes it clear that this was a deal specifically designed by the B&O Railroad for commuters: reduced fare, no baggage checking, no stop-overs.  You couldn’t use this Gaithersburg-to-DC pass for excursion trips to Point of Rocks, or to visit Aunt Millie in Dickerson. The Metropolitan Line was completed in 1873, and by improving transportation to and from Washington it greatly facilitated the practicality of living in the suburbs while working in the city.  It wasn’t used solely for commuting, by any means, but that was a large part of the line’s business (and still is; today, the line is owned by CSX and used by CSX, Amtrak and MARC trains for freight, long-distance, and commuter travel).

This May-July 1915 pass doesn’t appear to have quite all its 180 rides used up (though it’s hard to tell because the punching, what’s left of it, is pretty haphazard), but it clearly got a lot of use.  I also notice that Mr. Ely did not, as instructed, sign the contract on the dotted line.  Likely, this pass was one in a long series, and the various train conductors knew him by sight if not name; why bother to sign it? Everyone knew who he was.  We have no photos of the Elys in our collections; nor do we have additional stories thanks to donors, as we purchased this ticket from a local antique store (props to Jennie, our Office Manager, for spotting it!).  But, more so than some of our artifacts, this little commuter’s pass stands on its own in many ways, telling a quick little story of a suburban resident’s daily activities.

The Gaithersburg station (looking north up the tracks), 1911. Picture our Mr. Ely here every morning and evening; he probably walked the few blocks home. Photo by Lewis Reed, donated by the Reed family.

Bonus! In honor of May Day, and because the “occupation” part of the census is the best bit if you ask me, here are the jobs noted on the Elys’ census page in 1910.  In that year, John and Essie Ely were living with Essie’s aunt and uncle, the Hogans, at the corner of Park and Diamond Avenues in Gaithersburg.  Mr. Hogan was “installing telephones” (he was also a baker) and Mrs. Hogan was the town telephone operator; their nephew Charles Crawford, also living with them, was a telephone lineman.  (For many years, the town’s telephone switchboard was in fact installed in the Hogans’ house.)  Their neighbors – many of whom were probably living above their shops, as Diamond is one of the town’s main streets – included: two tinners, a gardener, a dressmaker, laborers in a store and a livery stable, a blacksmith with his “own shop,” “plumber, own shop,” “laundry, own shop” (that would be Charlie Foo, a Chinese immigrant and a story all to himself… for another time), the postmaster (plus the postal clerk, an unrelated young man, was boarding with this family), a bank clerk, and the railroad baggage master.

 

A variety of shoes

It’s National Volunteer Week (April 21-27, 2013), and it’s also getting close to the day when we will say farewell to Bethania, our fabulous high school intern.  We could not operate the Historical Society’s museums, library, or programs without our many volunteers!  So, as a small token of thanks to all the people who help keep us going, I thought I’d highlight one of Bethania’s collections projects on today’s blog.

As we do with all our high school, college, and graduate level interns, we assigned her a wide variety of activities, from the interesting to the rather less interesting.  If you’re thinking about going into museum work, it’s important to know that it’s not all opening boxes of treasures; some days you may be making copies, or setting up chairs.  But we do try to make most of their time here at least moderately entertaining!  As her final project, Bethania is helping me prepare new boards on our infant Pinterest page by taking photos of our shoe collection.  Over the years we’ve amassed a large number of shoes, mostly women’s and children’s; unfortunately many came with no particular provenance, but they’re still pretty interesting (and sometimes just plain pretty).  I confess, these are my picks rather than Bethania’s – she is taking time off from the internship to handle pesky things like exams and college prep – but perhaps you’ll be hearing from her on the blog soon.

 

A pair of snazzy toddler shoes, black patent leather with tan cut-out trim, circa 1925; history unknown.

 

 

 

 

 

White kid pumps, purchased from Rich’s Proper Shoes, Washington DC, circa 1950; history unknown.

 

 

 

 

Lace-up high-top ladies’ boots, brown leather, purchased from the Maryland Shoe Company of Cumberland, circa 19o0; history unknown.

 

 

 

 

 

Some of my personal favorites – a pair of “Princess Pat” shoes, early 1920s; history unknown.

 

 

 

 

And at last, a pair of white fabric peep-toe sandals, made by Valcraft and purchased at Julius Garfinckel & Co., Washington DC, circa 1965.  This pair was owned by Frances Partridge of Rockville.

(Apologies if the text and photos aren’t matching up right – they look okay in my preview, but I suspect things will go wrong on other screens.)

Want to relive past intern projects? (Who wouldn’t?)  We’ve featured them in these posts: Log cabin toy, A peek inside the dairy house, 1912 and 1924 diaries, a compendium of summer projects, and one guest blog.  Take a moment to check out their work – and remember, if you see a volunteer, say Thank You!

 

Doctor’s bag, 1920s-40s

Today’s artifact is a leather doctor’s bag, owned and used by Dr. William Linthicum (1902-1991) of Rockville.  The “Top Grain Cow Hide” bag is 16″ long and 10″ tall, and was made by Kruse in the early 20th century.  Though currently empty (except for one last bottle), it originally held a variety of medicines and tools to aid the doctor in his housecalls.

A lifelong Rockville resident, Dr. Linthicum practiced as a GP and obstetrician for 60 years. He was the son of local doctor Otis Linthicum, and grandson of Dr. Edward E. Stonestreet; a 1982 article in the Montgomery Journal noted that the three generations “kept Rockville residents hale and hearty for 1.3 centuries.”  When Dr. Stonestreet’s office was donated to the Historical Society in 1972, Dr. Linthicum helped us furnish it – but he did not give us his own medical items. Instead, a large collection of his instruments and office equipment was donated by his daughter-in-law Karin Linthicum, after his death.

In 1977 Dr. Linthicum compiled a charming little memoir, “He Never Left Home.” Though he shared wonderful stories of life in Rockville, and ruminated on his chosen profession, he did not mention specific items from his career; thus, the exact history of the bag is unknown.  It’s clear, however, that it saw some action.  The bag is sturdy and built to last, with reinforced stitching, a steel frame, and five metal feet; but the folds are worn, the corners rubbed, and the interior straps (to hold bottles and instruments) are bent out of shape.  Dr. Linthicum estimated he’d delivered over 4,000 babies throughout his career, including a thousand or so home births; most likely, this bag accompanied him on those housecalls.

Though not often used today, the doctor’s bag was a necessity in the era of housecalls.  In his memoir, Dr. Linthicum mentions that his colleague Dr. Jacob W. Bird (1885-1959) of Olney “removed my tonsils in a front bedroom at our house.”  When you’re in the patient’s front bedroom, not a medical office or hospital, you need some supplies ready to hand.  A sturdy and capacious bag, with a nice wide opening (the frame locks into the open position for easy access), is the way to go.

The Indiana Medical History Museum has put together an online display, “What’s in a Doctor’s Bag?”, and the Canadian Medical Association Journal also took a look at the contents of an early 20th century medical bag.  But what of the bag itself?  Though the black bag has become something of an iconic symbol of the medical profession, its history has eluded me today.  Similar “Oxford” or “Boston”-style satchels and valises appear in Sears catalogs over the years, but none are specified for use by doctors; they must have been sold through more specialized means.  The Kruse company clearly made a lot of doctor’s bags, based on the number of vintage items for sale over the internet, but its origins are currently murky.  What I thought would be a relatively easy blog has instead turned into a rather more hardcore research project.

Sears, Roebuck catalog for 1902: “Fine Oxford Bags”

 

Milk carton caboose, circa 1950s

March is, among other things, National Craft Month.  We’ve featured some high-end crafting on the blog, like the hair wreath, the fretwork Lord’s Prayer, and the engineer-built cardboard house model . . . but today, let’s look at something a little simpler: a train caboose made of wood, wire, spools, paint, and a milk carton.

Our little caboose was donated in 1998 by Eugenie Riggs, who told us it was made by one of her sons as a Boy Scout project.  George and Eugenie Riggs had four sons, born between 1934 and 1946; the family moved from D.C. to Chevy Chase in 1936, and then to Ashton’s historic “Cherry Grove” in 1945.  Waxed cardboard milk cartons were invented in the early 20th century, but didn’t become popular until the 1950s or so; thus I think the caboose was probably made in Ashton.  (Any Ashton-area Scouts from the 1950s out there want to chime in?)

The underlying structure here is a Lucerne Vitamin D Milk carton.  The wheels are made of wooden spools, cut in two and connected with dowels, then attached to the carton with heavy wire.  Extraneous bits, like the top of the compartment and the little ladders on the ends, are made of cardboard, including some decorative corrugation on the roof.  The whole thing is painted red and black, and marked “B-O” for the B&O Railroad, one of the oldest railroads in the country (and a presence in Montgomery County since 1873).

Pretty cute, right?  Unfortunately, we did not get any other information from Mrs. Riggs about this piece; while she was definitely a ‘saver,’ and gave us a very large donation of toys and playthings, this is the only craft-type artifact that was included.  It seems likely that it meant something special, to her and/or to its maker.  I’ve always liked this little caboose because it shows that milk-carton kids crafts – which abound on the internet (there are entire websites devoted to what you can make from a milk carton!) – have been around as long as the cartons themselves.

 

House of Delegates campaign poster, 1962

Here we have a political poster from the early 1960s, screen-printed on heavy cardboard, measuring 22″ x 28″. It reads “Elect Elaine Lady – House of Delegates – Republican Candidate. By authority of candidate.”  Based on the condition, it was probably used on the campaign trail (not simply a left-over).  It was donated by Donna Bassin in 1999, part of a large collection of mid-20th century political posters.

Elaine Lady of Chevy Chase served one term in the Maryland House of Delegates, from 1966 to 1970, representing Montgomery County’s District 1.  A real estate agent, Mrs. Lady’s campaign platforms focused on education, pollution, lower taxes, and efficient government. Before her successful election in 1966, she ran for the House as a Prince George’s County candidate in 1954, and as a Montgomery County candidate in 1962; she served as Vice Chairman of the Montgomery County Board of Appeals from 1964-66. In 1970 she ran unsuccessfully for the State Senate, and appears to have retired from politics after that. Based on the candidate photographs used in the Washington Post, this poster dates from her 1962 campaign, probably from the November general election.

Mrs. Lady was not the first woman to serve in the Maryland legislature. That honor belongs to Mary E.W. Risteau of Harford County, who was elected to the House of Delegates in 1922 (the first year it was possible for a woman to run in Maryland); she later served in the State Senate as well. Montgomery County’s first woman in the House of Delegates was Lavinia M. Engle, elected in 1930; she was followed by county residents Ruth Elizabeth Shoemaker, Genevieve H. Wells, Leona M. Rush, Kathryn J. Lawlor, Margaret C. Schweinhaut, Edna P. Cook, Alice W. Hostetler, and Louise Gore.

Lavinia M. Engle (1892-1979). Donated to MCHS by Parke Engle.

Once elected, serving in the legislature was not always easy. This 2009 article on Prince George’s County’s Pauline H. Menes, who also entered the House in 1966, quotes Menes: “It was made fairly clear to the few women who were here that we were not expected to accomplish very much, that we were not expected to stay very long.” (In fact, as of a few years ago Menes was the longest-serving state legislator in the U.S.)  Women were not appointed to leadership roles; there wasn’t even a ladies rest room near the chambers.  (There’s a good story about the rest room problem in the article linked above.)  It was sometimes a struggle simply to have their voices heard and taken seriously. 

Want to learn more? Visit the Women Legislators of Maryland site, or the Maryland Women’s Hall of Fame.

 

Fannie and George go to the Fair, 1906

Today we have a pair of “ruby flash” salt & pepper shakers, now missing their tops, souvenirs of the 1906 Rockville Fair.

Ruby Flash glass (also called Ruby Stain) is named for the red color, which is applied to glass pieces by coating them with a chemical compound, then baking them in a kiln. The technique was used for both fancy dinnerware and inexpensive novelties. Our shakers are pressed glass, 2 3/4 inches tall, in the “Button Arches” pattern made by the US Glass Co.  “Button Arches,” and similar patterns with a decorated bottom and plain top, were perfect for creating on-the-spot personalized items. Locations, dates, and names could be easily engraved, cutting through the layer of stain. Souvenirs in the form of mugs, creamers, cordial glasses, toothpick holders, and the like were sold at fairs and festivals from the 1890s through the 1920s.

Who were Fannie and George? I doubt we’ll ever know for sure. This set was donated by our long-time glass and ceramics curator, who most likely spotted them at an antique store. I did find a potential match in the 1910 census, George and Fannie Chase of Wheaton, but there’s no particular reason to assume our George and Fannie were ever married. Unfortunately, there’s no match listed among the “Fair Week Weddings” (Washington Post, August 25, 1906) – unless Weldon Livingston Ferguson, Jr, of Loudon County, who married Frances Garner of Connecticut, went by “George.” (Apparently getting married at the Rockville Fair was kind of a thing; the article begins, “As usual, fair week brought a number of couples to Rockville on matrimonial errands.”) Perhaps, however, the Fair was an inspiration to George and Fannie, as it was to Miss Bessie Scott Montgomery of Washington. A September article in the Post describes Miss Montgomery as a “heroine of romance,” noting that she and George Kelchner of Rockville “had been sweethearts for several years, but some months ago they had a falling out, which to all appearances was of a permanent character. At the late Rockville Fair, however, they met and a reconciliation followed.” A few weeks later, they eloped. Who can deny the power of the fairground setting?

Some fantastic and fashionable hats at the Fair, 1906. MCHS collections.

Romantic imaginings aside, we can get an idea of what our unknown couple experienced at the Fair, thanks to extensive coverage in the Washington Post. The Fairgrounds were just outside Rockville, about where Richard Montgomery High School is today. The 1906 Fair lasted four days, from August 21st to the 24th, and drew visitors from local counties, Washington, and Baltimore. Crowds on the first three days were record-breaking, with the Post reporting “probably 7,000 persons on the grounds” on the second day; on the third day there was “an immense throng. . . probably as large a gathering as ever attended a Rockville Fair.” However, the weather was not terribly cooperative; a “terrific storm” on the 24th interrupted the racing, and “the intense heat all four days undoubtedly kept several thousand away.”

Crowds at the racetrack, Rockville Fair, 1906. MCHS collections.

All those throngs of people had plenty to see. There were eleven horse races held on the newly improved track. Baseball teams from Rockville and Kensington played on the 21st (Rockville won, 7 to 2). There were displays of horses, cattle, poultry, sheep and hogs, mules, garden and farm products, cakes and candies, honey, preserves and jellies, “fancy articles” and sewing, works of art, photographs, fruits, flowers, and children’s exhibits. The “grand cavalcade,” an exhibition of stock, was held on the morning of the 22nd, headed by young Margaret Jones (daughter of an Agricultural Society official) and Clements Offutt (son of Rockville’s mayor) riding Shetland ponies. Maryland Governor Edwin Warfield was “expected,” though I couldn’t tell from the articles if he ever showed up. The annual “fair ball” was held on the evening of the 24th.

Margaret Jones and Clements Offutt at the Fair, 1906. MCHS collections.

Altogether, George and Fannie probably had a pretty good time – and they brought home a matched set of souvenirs, to commemorate their day.

 

“I must keep my seat,” 1919

I started work on a nice, long blog post this morning, then realized that I should hold onto it until July 2013 when this particular artifact will be 200 years old.  (And you’ll just have to wait a few months to find out what it is!)  Instead, here’s a quick look at some of the cataloging work that’s been going on ‘behind the scenes’ in the curator’s office – specifically, one of the fun things we’ve found.

This winter’s in-depth cataloging project is books: textbooks, novels, picture books, cookbooks, and the like, owned and used by local people.  We have a largeish set of textbooks from Rose K. Dawson of Rockville, including many used in the 1910s-20s at the Rockville Academy by her brothers, Walter and Joe, and by family friend William Ross.  Ross, a Native American from Nebraska, came to live with the Dawsons when that family moved here in 1911; they lived at Rocky Glen, Mr. Dawson’s family home in Rockville.  Ross’s story is a good one, and I’ll include more of it in a future post; for now, let’s just say that he liked to write in his textbooks.  The Dawson boys did too, but Ross’s books are particularly scribbled-in.  (As someone whose class notes, if not necessarily school-property books, were always covered in doodles, I sympathize.)   Flipping through this copy of Higher Lessons in English:  A work on English Grammar and Composition, In which the Science of the Language is Made Tributary to the Art of Expression - A Course of Practical Lessons Carefully Graded, and Adapted to Every-Day Use in the School-Room  (Reed & Kellogg, 1909), one finds repeated iterations of “Bill Ross, Rockville Maryland,” the date 1919, and – fantastically – this page:

Though it seems unlikely that a teacher would chastise a student by having him write “I must keep my seat” in his textbook, even a book that the Dawsons had purchased (like this one), perhaps Ross was simply continuing his written punishment in a slightly rebellious manner, or out of boredom.  Just from this one little page, I feel like the window of the past is a little clearer – always remember that our ancestors were people, not simply collections of genealogical facts. Of course, our official stance is “Don’t write in books, kids!” . . . but, actually, go ahead and write in your books.  (In moderation.) Future historians may thank you!

 

Memorial windows, circa 1930s

Today we have a pair of stained glass or leadlight casement windows, from a Silver Spring church that no longer stands. Dedicated in memory of Phillip and Caroline Eaglen, the windows were part of Mt. Zion United Methodist Church. The design is relatively simple; windows like these, complete with the dedication space at the bottom, are a common sight in late 19th and early 20th century American churches of many denominations. Each of our windows measures 48″ tall and 32″ wide, including the heavy wooden frames (complete with flourescent lights) that were added at some point. The windows were donated to MCHS in 1993 by Mr. and Mrs. Clifton Andrews.

The windows on display – the mystery rectangle between them is the exhibit label.

Mt. Zion United Methodist Church was located on Georgia Avenue, in the Linden/Forest Glen/Montgomery Hills area of Silver Spring. Its history is somewhat obscure, with only a few clues located so far. The 1879 Hopkins Atlas (below) shows “Mt. Zion M.E. Ch.” on the Washington & Brookeville Turnpike (Georgia Avenue). To orient you: downtown Silver Spring is off the map to the right; the “turnpike” visible in the upper right is modern-day Colesville Road; the road at left that ends at Forest Glen Sta. is Forest Glen Road; the road that runs down to the bottom, including the home of freedman S. Lytton, is Brookville Road.

In 1935, Mary Doolittle Dawson wrote an essay called “Early Days in Linden” (parenthetical notes were added by Frances Wolfe in 1983):  “The Laney House … was on the East side of the 7th Street Pike (now Georgia Avenue) opposite the colored Methodist church (the site now occupied by Safeway on Georgia Ave. and Seminary Place)…. Mrs. Rose Wilson Kerr tells me that this church was first used by the white Episcopalians and Methodists. Mrs. Kerr remembers being taken there as a little child…. This church, however, had passed into the hands of the colored people by the time our family spent the summer with the Laneys and there has been a colored church there ever since. Although the old church was torn down and a new one built on the same site.”

A 1937 survey of Montgomery County churches, conducted by the Works Progress Administration as part of the Historical Records Survey, included the Mt. Zion Methodist Episcopal Church – no street address – in Montgomery Hills, Silver Spring. The church was noted as “organized” in 1866; the “present building,” dedicated in 1916, was described as a “frame two story meeting house type, no bell, no special features.” Ms. Dawson’s story of the church’s origins is confirmed here, probably from history provided by Mt. Zion clergy or members: “The first church on this site was a white M.E. Church erected about 1825. This church was given to the colored people about 1866 and became known as Mt. Zion M.E. Church.”

Though a reference in a newspaper article shows that the church was still there in the early 1960s, by 1969 it was gone, replaced by shops. I haven’t yet found any images of the church, or information on when exactly it was torn down. It’s thought that the congregation was officially transferred to Van Buren United Methodist Church in D.C.

What of the couple whose names appear on the windows? For now, most of our information comes from census records (somewhat complicated by the fact that the name was recorded in various years as Eaglen, Edelin, Egland, Eglin, and Edlin). Phillip Eaglen (born circa 1840) married Caroline Bell (born circa 1845) in 1867; I haven’t found them in Montgomery County earlier than 1870, and don’t yet know if either of them had been enslaved. The Eaglens had at least 10 children, including William, Phillip, Helen, Harry, Mary Roberta, Olla, Ernest, Caroline, and John. By 1900, the family had settled in the Linden area, in an African-American neighborhood evidently known (to the 1910 census taker, at any rate) as “Monkey Hollow.” In the censuses, Phillip was variously described as a laborer or farmer; Caroline was usually “keeping house,” though in 1910 she was working as a laundress. Their children and grandchildren worked as gardeners, carpenters, housemaids, farm laborers, and hotel waitresses; grandson Arthur Eaglen served with the 808 Pioneer Infantry during World War I. The latest information on the Eaglens is the 1930 census, at which point the couple owned a house on Brookville Road in Linden (or possibly Lyttonsville, an African-American community) and lived there with their daughters Mary and Caroline, Mary’s husband John Potts, and their grandson Walter Eaglen.  Both Phillip and Caroline (noted in 1930 as aged 93 and 87) presumably died sometime during the 1930s.

It’s not clear how the donors ended up with these windows, although a note in our files indicates that their maid, Sadie Kelly, was married to a man whose parents were acquainted with the Eaglens. Ms. Kelly is the one who supplied us with the name and location of the church.

The short version of all of this is, of course, “There’s still a lot more research to do.” Where did the Eaglens live before 1870? Who commissioned the windows in their memory? When was the church demolished, and why were these two windows saved? (Do any blog readers have information or photos to share?) Nonetheless, even with this moderate amount of info the windows are interesting artifacts, and they serve as physical reminders of a church – and a family – that might otherwise have been forgotten by local historians.

Interested in learning more about African American churches in Montgomery County? Visit our library!