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!

 

High school jersey, 1970s

This year marks the 40th anniversary of Title IX of the Education Amendments of 1972, which reads in part: “No person in the United States shall, on the basis of sex, be excluded from participation in, be denied the benefits of, or be subjected to discrimination under any education program or activity receiving Federal financial assistance.”  Essentially: if you let boys do it, you’d better let girls do it too… and while you’re at it, don’t just allow it, encourage equal participation.

Many longer and more thorough reports than mine have been written on the effects of Title IX and its current rate of success.  (Last week’s Gazette had an interesting series, including several local accounts.)  Though much of the popular focus has been on improvements in athletic opportunities, it’s worth remembering that Title IX applies to academics as well.  However, our collections are best suited for an example of the growth of women’s sports in county schools, so until someone donates a nice 1973 shop-class project by their mother or aunt (hint, hint), let’s take a look at a sport uniform.

This cotton/nylon jersey was worn by a currently unknown female student at Northwood High School in Silver Spring, in the mid-late 1970s.  Happily, our library has a large collection of local school yearbooks, and the yearbooks for Northwood in 1973, ‘74, ‘75, ‘76 and ‘78 (sorry, we’re missing a year) give us some clues as to this jersey’s history.  (A full-on study of athletics at any given school requires more sources than just the yearbooks, of course, but I was mostly looking for pictures of uniforms; and hey, yearbooks are fun.)

Northwood High School opened in 1956, closed in 1985 due to declining student-age population in the area, then reopened in 2004 when the neighborhood once again required it.  In the 1970s, the school colors were black and red, and the team name was the Indians.  (Today the colors are the same, but the school mascot is a Gladiator.)  The Arrowhead yearbook gives a hint of the sports available for girls each year*.  In 1973, girls are shown participating only in swimming and gymnastics, though other teams (perhaps intramural) probably existed.  Only a year later, though, there are pages for girls’ tennis, field hockey, basketball, volleyball and softball.  The young women on the basketball teams (just one team at first, later the Junior Varsity team) in 1974-1978 are wearing jerseys like this one; the style also shows up on a softball player in the only photo of that sport included in 1974; by 1983 other uniforms have replaced it.  Two #44s appear in the books, whom I won’t call out in case they don’t want their names randomly appearing on the internet (although, hey ladies, if this is your jersey please let me know!).

I didn’t find any references specifically to Title IX, but the tone of the mid 1970s books does give a sense that yes, there is a new interest in, and attitude toward, girls’ athletics.  In 1976 that attitude (perhaps because of that year‘s editor?) is particularly evident.  That year, the girls’ basketball team had switched from a female to a male coach, a point which is emphasized in the yearbook: “He proved that men too can make good coaches for an all-girls’ sport involving skill and talent.”  The cross-country page features this headline: “Cross Country Team Includes Girl Runners” and, only a few sentences after informing us that one of those ‘girl runners’ was a state champion, the author points out that the (male) coach “expressed his lack of male chauvinism by insisting that the girls receive the credit due them.”  2012 gives that a sarcastic “gee, thanks,” but depending on the school’s culture at that time, such an “insistence” may have been highly progressive.  Happily, by 1978 the novelty of serious girls’ teams seems to have worn off, at least in the Arrowhead.

*Comparing the numbers and types of sports available to the county’s public school students since the late 19th century is actually quite interesting, and there were many girls’ teams in the early-mid 20th century… but that will have to wait for a later article.

 

Adding machine, 1970s

April is both National Poetry Month and National Financial Literacy Month, and I was torn – but ultimately I decided to go with the money. (Maybe next year, Poetry.)  Here is an Olivetti Summa Quanta 20 printing calculator, purchased in D.C. in 1972 and used in Silver Spring.

We have four mid-20th century adding machines – or mechanical printing calculators – in our collections. One, a Victor Champion (like this one) from the 1950s, has no known history; the other three, including this Olivetti, were donated by Allen Hillman of Silver Spring. Mr. Hillman, a CPA, worked for Sinrod & Tash in D.C. until 1967, when he left to start his own accounting firm; his first office was on 16^th Street, and he later moved to Colesville Road in Silver Spring. The machines he donated show the course of his early career: an electric Remington Rand from the 1940s, purchased used by the donor from Sinrod & Tash when he started his own firm, and in use until 1973; a hand-cranked Olivetti Summa 15, in a traveling case, bought new in 1958 and used at his home until 1975; and this Olivetti Summa Quanta 20.

According to Mr. Hillman, when the Summa Quanta 20 came out, “everybody bought one.” He got this one in 1972 from Leon Office Machine Co at 623 H St NW, and used it in his Silver Spring office until 1980, when he – like many of his colleagues – switched to a new, just-introduced electronic calculator. 

Olivetti is an Italian company, founded in 1908. Our electric (but not electronic) Summa Quanta 20, made in Argentina, has a green metal cover and a reddish-brown plastic base. It still has its cord and plug, as well as a gray vinyl dust cover. According to the donor, part of the appeal was that it was “portable;” while it’s not exactly a hand-held machine it is, at only 11″ long and 5″ tall, rather smaller and lighter than the other machines in our collection.

Vintage adding machines, or mechanical printing calculators, come in many different varieties and perform different functions; woe to the ignorant person who thinks a calculator is a calculator is a calculator. Fortunately, there are collectors and fans out there who are happy to share their collections online. Though I personally have never thought much about mechanical adding machines – I grew up with electronic calculators, and had never seen a hand-crank machine until Mr. Hillman’s donation – I can understand their appeal. Like typewriters, they are interesting on several levels: as aesthetic objects, reflecting the design sensibilities of their time; as historical artifacts, telling the story of changing technologies and changing economies; and as functioning machines, still valid and useful even in our digital age. Just don’t ask me to actually use one.

Want to see some more machines? These websites – here, here, and here – have both technical information, for those of you interested in the mechanics, and photos, for those who want to admire the design.  Wikipedia also has a fairly thorough history of mechanical vs. electronic calculators, here. These sites are only a sampling; if you enjoy them, I encourage you to while away an hour or so with your preferred internet search engine and a few keywords. 

Edited: to correct the name of Mr. Hillman’s first CPA firm. 4/25/12

**NOTE!!** Next week’s blog will be a day late, as I’ll be at the American Association of Museums conference in Minneapolis.  Your monthly dose of postcard history will arrive on Thursday the 3rd!

 

Girl Scout artifacts, 1940s-1970s

As you probably know, this past Monday (March 12, 2012) marked the 100th anniversary of the Girl Scouts of America.  In modest commemoration of the date, here are a few things from our collections related to local troops.

This handkerchief belonged to Kathleen Sisk of Takoma Park, Md., who was a member of a D.C. troop in the late 1940s.  The colorfully printed fabric measures 11.5″ square.  The symbols around the edges correspond to badges, and appear to include everything from art to boatcraft to skiing.  (Unfortunately, we don’t have any GSA handbooks earlier than the 1970s in our collections; anyone have insight into the official badge names?)  We also have Kathleen’s green beret, which was later handed down to her younger sister Ann (who was not a Girl Scout) and the insignia was removed.  Both items were donated by Kathleen’s daughter, along with a few artifacts from the daughter’s own 1970s troop in Silver Spring.  (I love continuity!)

This snapshot, donated by Jean Case, shows members of Girl Scout Troop 59 (Rockville) participating in the 1953 Rockville Memorial Day Parade (and looking very pleased to do so).

And finally, here’s a Girl Scout pocketknife, donated by an MCHS member who led Troop 47 (Flower Valley) in the 1970s.  The knife was used by both of her daughters on camping trips.  I particularly like the fact that the can opener blade is marked “CAN OPENER” – apparently the uses of the other blades were self-evident. 

Looking for more on the history of the Girl Scouts?  Here’s the official GSA overview.  Want to get involved in local scouting?  Here’s the Girl Scout Council of the Nation’s Capital.  Want to really get involved in hyper-local scouting?  Volunteer at the Historical Society!  We have history programs for Brownies and Girl Scouts, and as much fun as it is for us to lead those tours, we can always use volunteers. 

 

Community banner, 2001

The Arts & Humanities Council of Montgomery County held its second annual “Magical Montgomery” festival in Silver Spring, on September 29, 2001 – only a few weeks after the terrorist attacks of September 11th of that year.  In response to those events, the AHC asked artist Rosana Azar to organize a Healing Mural, to which visitors could contribute their own images and words.  Last year the AHC donated the mural to the Historical Society.

Physically, this is a canvas banner around 6 feet tall and over 50 feet long.  Emotionally, it is a reminder of those days and weeks after the events of 9-11, when Americans and others were still processing – or trying to process – what had happened, and how it would affect us.  Visitors wrote messages of love and support in English, Spanish and other languages; personalized it with hand- and footprints in paint; and drew and painted images of flags, doves, peace symbols, flowers, trees, hearts, and many others.  Today, ten years later, the memories brought back by the words and images on the mural are (to me, anyway) both immediate and far away.  I remember thinking that nothing would be the same… and yet now, reading some of the thoughts expressed here, I have trouble putting myself back in that place where the whole world had changed.  And that, my friends, is why museums collect artifacts.  Time passes, and memories fade and change despite our best intentions; sometimes we need the physical artifacts to anchor those memories and bring them back to the surface.

Well, that’s a little more philosophical than I meant to get today, before I pulled the banner out to take photos.  See?  Even us seasoned curators – professional rememberers – need the artifacts to bring those memories back.  Feel free to comment, share your own memories, argue with me about forgetting things, whatever you like.  In the meantime, here are some more images from the banner.

 

Dry Powder Fire Extinguisher, ca. 1900

“The Richmond Chemical Fire Extinguisher,” manufactured by the Richmond Chemical Company, Silver Spring, Maryland, probably in the  early 20^th century. It is a metal tube, 22 inches long and 2 inches in diameter, with a metal ring on the top end. The directions for use are printed on the tube: “Hang on Strong Hook [when not in use]. Pull Down Quickly Thus Opening the Tube. Hurl the Powder Forcibly With Sweeping Motion Into Base of Flames. NEVER SPRINKLE. For Flue Fires: Throw a Few Handfuls Up Any Opening Below the Fire. HARMLESS to Person and Fabric.”

This is a tubular dry-powder fire extinguisher. A number of fire extinguishers were invented over the centuries, using compressed air, water, gasses, chemicals or a combination thereof. (I hate to do this, but I’m going to link to the wikipedia page, rather than attempt to summarize the many different types of antique fire extinguishers myself.) In the late 19^th century the glass “fire grenade” was a popular choice for home and business, but some varieties were filled with poisonous vapors. The dry-powder extinguisher was a (presumably) less dangerous option. An 1886 advertisement for a British “dry powder tube” extinguisher extolls the wonders of this new discovery; the directions for use are almost identical to our American extinguisher here.

However, I’ve been able to find little else about this particular style of extinguisher in my research so far. I’ve also found almost nothing about the Richmond Chemical Company of Silver Spring. It appears to be in Richmond, Virginia [sensibly enough] in 1897; it is in Silver Spring by 1937, when the company placed a want ad – looking for “experienced salesmen for a real money making article” – in the February and March issues of Popular Mechanics. However, no company by that name appears in the 1949 phone book (although there are four other companies listed under “Chemicals,” two in Washington and two in Prince George’s County). I’ve had no luck, so far, with references to the company between 1897 and 1937. Annoyingly, there are no patent dates on the can (and a quick search of Google Patents found nothing similar to this item); the only extra bit of information is a tiny label telling me that the American Can Company made the metal tube. There have been many “American Can Companies” over time, but perhaps ours was made by the one in the Canton area of Baltimore, which adopted the American Can name in 1901.

We purchased this item on eBay, which as mentioned in the fishing game post has its limitations; we can’t ask the donor for additional information or history. This is one of those items that requires occasional poking around in spare moments, and I can always use suggestions for new poking-around resources. Any readers have insight into either this type of fire extinguisher, or the Richmond Chemical Company’s history in Silver Spring?

 

Child’s costume, 1909

This little vest/blouse combo was, for some years, something of a “problem” artifact. Part of a large donation by the Prettyman family of Rockville in the 1980s, its history consisted of a cryptic note added to the paperwork: “‘Moon King’ bodice to Curly Jack’s costume. Dorothy (age 11).” Well, presumably that made sense to someone at some point, but it was mystifying to me. For one thing, Dorothy’s identity was unknown; for another, both blouse and vest looked much too small to be worn by an eleven year old. Happily, Dorothy was easy to track down, thanks to the extensive genealogy resources in our research library. Dorothy Clark was born in 1905, in Colesville; she married Charles Wesley Prettyman of Rockville in 1931, and they were the parents of the people to whom most of the donation was related. But who is Curly Jack?

One nice thing about mysteries is that they stick in your brain. When looking through old issues of the Montgomery County Sentinel some years ago, researching some other question entirely, the words “Moon King” jumped off the page at me – wasn’t that the name on that cute little Prettyman costume? Here is what the Sentinel of June 12, 1909 had to say: “‘The Moon King,’ a grand spectacular operetta composed by Mrs. S.M. Hamilton, under the auspices of the [Silver Spring] Home Interest Club, for the benefit of the new Woodside public pool, will be rendered at the Odeon, Forest Glen, under the direction of Mrs. E.B. Clark.” Mary Hamilton (Mrs. Edward Berry) Clark was Dorothy’s mother; the Clarks lived in Colesville, near Silver Spring; and in 1909, Dorothy would have been four years old, not eleven, which makes much more sense size-wise. Hooray! Mystery (almost certainly) solved! (BUT: see update here.)

The Montgomery County Historical Society has been collecting artifacts since it was founded in 1944. That’s a nice long time, time enough to accumulate lots of great stuff… and to lose a lot of information along the way. Over our 66 year history we’ve changed ‘homes,’ changed curators, and changed our thinking about what we should collect and keep. Even with the best intentions in the world, my predecessors forgot to write things down, mislaid paperwork, figured they’d eventually get around to asking Mrs. Donor a few more questions, or didn’t even think those questions were important. My personal favorite problem: In the 1950s, curator Dr. Adams took copious catalog and inventory notes… in his own personal version of shorthand which no one today can read. (And, no doubt, despite my best efforts, some future curator here will be muttering imprecations against me.)

Every artifact has something to say, even when you don’t know anything about it. “What on earth is that?” is a great story (or the beginning of one). The problem is that at a historical society, we generally want our artifacts to tell a specific story, a local one. Often, enough clues remain that the story can be teased out through research (and luck), as in the case with Dorothy’s costume. Some clues are still waiting – but then, getting to solve these puzzles is part of what I love about my job, so who am I to complain?

** Image seekers: You’re in luck! While I’m still working out the logistics of putting photos on this blog, Dorothy Clark Prettyman can be seen on our website as the “Staff Photo” of Liz Otey, our Education Manager. **

 

Blair High School button collection, 1956-1960

This weekend, Montgomery Blair High School in Silver Spring is having a 75^th anniversary celebration. In honor of my alma mater, here’s a little school spirit from the late 1950s.

This little “South Seas” type figure – itself unrelated to Blair, I think, unless it was a souvenir from a themed dance or homecoming parade – is festooned with fifteen buttons, all either pro-Blair or anti-rival. The donor, who grew up near the intersection of Colesville Road and University Boulevard, attended Blair – the old Blair, now Silver Spring International Middle School – and graduated in the class of 1960. The rivals represented here are Bethesda-Chevy Chase (“the Barons,” visible on one of the front buttons), Wheaton, Richard Montgomery, Walter Johnson, Suitland, Bladensburg and Northwestern High Schools. County locals may be thinking, hey, those last three aren’t in Montgomery County! (Today we have a Northwest, but Northwestern, Bladensburg and Suitland are in Prince George’s County.) At the time local high schools were few enough that to make up a full division, teams often played schools from neighboring counties, not just their own.

The little “mascot” was something of a bonus donation. The donor was helping to clean out her childhood home, and offered the Historical Society some pieces from the family’s old farm in Wheaton, dating from around 1900. When I went to pick them up she offered me some 1920s tennis rackets, also from her family, as an afterthought. It was only as I was leaving that I spotted this little guy and mentioned that I too had gone to Blair; after a little discussion it became clear to her that I thought he would be a perfect addition to our 20^th century collections. She seemed dubious, but was happy to make my day and send him off to posterity at the Society, along with the older artifacts.

I get this a lot. Being a relatively young curator has some disadvantages (although occasionally it does provide me with the element of surprise). Reactions to my interest in recent artifacts are usually positive, but sometimes are more along the lines of incredulity and/or indignation (“Just because YOU weren’t born yet doesn’t make it historical!”), and I can understand this point; hearing early U2 on the “oldies” station gives me the same feeling. Sometimes disbelief is mixed with speculation; I swear the donor is trying to think of other things they can foist onto my collections, as if, like in old cartoons, my head has turned into a giant “sucker” lollipop. (Contrary to semi-popular belief, we don’t accept just anything.) Sometimes people are pleasantly surprised to learn that the Historical Society is not just about colonial homes and 19^th century farms. My goal is to make it less of a surprise!

 

Third place ribbon, 1914

Our weekly artifact is one of a collection of five prize ribbons donated by Mildred Getty in the 1950s.  This particular ribbon is printed, “Colesville Horse and Colt Show, Colesville, Md.  Third Prize, August 12, 1914.”  (The other ribbons in the collection are Fourth Prize at the 1914 show; Second and Third Prize at the 1913 Colesville show; and First Prize at the 1911 Rockville Fair Horse Show.) 

Happily for me, the Colesville Horse and Colt Show was a widely attended affair, and the results were published in the Montgomery County Sentinel. (I do like an artifact with a date printed on it!)   1914 was the third annual show, held “all day” at the farm of Benton G. Ray outside Colesville.   Attendance for 1914 was not specified, but in 1913 the paper reported that over 3,000 people visited the fair, coming from all over the state as well as Washington, D.C.   The winner of the Third Premium in Class No. 16: Champion Ponies was Cocoanut, owned by George G. Getty of Silver Spring (the donor’s father).   Cocoanut also won the Fourth Premium in Class No. 14: Ponies in Harness. 

The 1911 and 1913 ribbons in this collection were won by horses owned by Louise Stratton Burr Getty, the donor’s mother.  Mrs. Getty was a noted horsewoman and activist who grew up in Colesville and lived in Silver Spring after her marriage.  The Historical Society owns a cape worn by Mrs. Getty while riding a horse (naturally) in the National American Woman Suffrage Association parade in Washington, D.C. on March 3rd, 1913.  Unfortunately, Mrs. Getty was killed in October of 1913 in what her obituary described as a “runaway horse accident.”  Perhaps Mr. Getty entered his pony in the 1914 show in his wife’s honor.