Well, the name of it is Old Julia still. I guess you hard of that. — M.R., March 1988.
Former turpentine camp site, St. Johns County, Fla.
“Old Julia” was the name of a turpentine still and camp that operated in rural St. Johns County, Fla., in the 1920s and 1930s. And then, like other temporary naval stores processing sites in the Coastal Plain flatwoods, its owner moved the buildings and people to another stand of longleaf pines to extract resin for distillation into turpentine.
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Over the past three years this site has changed platforms once and servers twice. It also has gone through some growing pains, false starts, and wrong turns. When I migrated the blog from WordPress.com there were some formatting errors that occurred in the earlier telecommunications history posts (embedded media not rendering correctly, etc.). Also, because of changes in Google Maps plugins over time, some of the embedded maps in older posts were broken.
After a couple of weeks of repair work, all of the graphics and other embedded media in the Western Union microwave network series appear to have been restored. The site has a new brick background –Catskill brick pavers from Savannah, Ga. — and better optimized photos. Gone are many of the posts that detoured from the site’s purpose: telling stories about the past. They diminished the site’s integrity and were a distraction from what I set out to achieve with this site.
New posts on the way cover recent past resources in the Washington suburbs and some fun ways to combine music with oral history. Future posts will be shorter and mainly will provide introductions and complementary information for blog posts and articles published elsewhere in edited sites, like the recent piece on a Southern poet’s home, and e-journals.
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In 1893, an acclaimed Atlanta poet built a fashionable wood home in the Atlanta Suburban Land Company’s East End subdivision. The two-story vernacular Victorian gable-front home with turned porch posts and spindlework stands out among its one-story cottage neighbors in Decatur, Ga.’s, Oakhurst neighborhood.
Former Hubner home. April 2012.
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Probably not. But this is the best one I’ve read in a while.
Wills and other probate instruments are pretty ordinary, almost formulaic, documents. Most of the time. I recently came across a will filed in 1942 in Decatur, Georgia, that deviated from the routine. The author made the usual requests that his affairs be settled and his wife administer his estate. And then he got to the part where he directed his heirs to deal with his remains:
THIRD - I direct my remains to be clothed in plain apparel at a minimum cost and conveyed in as inexpensive coffin, casket, or receptacle as possible and cremated in Macon, Georgia, and my ashes returned, in a durable container, to my wife ….
FOURTH - I nominate my friends …. to elect one from their number to accompany my remains to the place of incineration and return with my ashes.
FIFTH - I direct my wife to pay the expenses for the disposal of my remains according to the foregoing prescribed manner, including the fare and transportation of one that attends my remains and returns with my ashes, but nothing for funeral services.
SIXTH - I request that my remains be disposed of without embalment if it can be done satisfactorily to all concerned.
SEVENTH - I shall die as I have lived, believing in the God of nature only, discarding the fairy tales of the Bible as nonsense, which have added many burdens of mental anguish to millions of people departing this life, who were never permitted to think rationally for themselves; hence I earnestly request that no preacher, priest or clergyman officiate at my funeral. I shall go the way of all life without fear of eternal punishment.
© 2013 D.S. Rotenstein
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Since 1970, the State and Tribal Historic Preservation Offices have received up to $46.9 million in annual matching grants through the Historic Preservation Fund (HPF) to assist in expanding and accelerating their historic preservation activities.
Funding is used to pay part of the costs of staff salaries, surveys, comprehensive preservation studies, National Register nominations, educational materials, as well as architectural plans, historic structure reports, and engineering studies necessary to preserve historic properties.
The All HPF-assisted activities must meet standards set by the Secretary of the Interior, and at least 10 percent of the allocations to the States are subgranted to assist Certified Local Governments for locally based activities. — National Park Service
In 2010 Decatur, Ga., received a $10,000 Historic Preservation Fund grant for historic preservation-related planning studies at the city’s former equalization schools, Beacon Elementary and Trinity High. The previous year, the City’s historic preservation consultants completed a citywide comprehensive historic resources survey and failed to mention the African American historic site (the survey did, however, include an inventory form for a building at 109 Waters Street with this note: “Number on building is 420 W Trinity, the police station”).
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There’s more to rural Frederick County, Maryland, than Camp David. Nearby, there were other twentieth century resorts that housed people of lesser means than U.S. presidents.
The Blue Mountain House (F-6-095) is a 1½-story frame house located south of Blue Mountain Road in rural Frederick County, Maryland. The house is a side-gabled rectangular building constructed on a concrete block foundation. There is a front entry porch in the north façade. The porch roof is supported by four battered wood posts on brick piers. The north façade has three bays with symmetrical fenestration (central door). There is a rear one-story shed roof addition (enclosed porch) and an external gable end (west) concrete block chimney. The building has 1/1 double-hung sash windows and is clad by vinyl siding; the roof is clad by composition shingles. Continue reading
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In February I was invited to write a guest post for the Tikkun Daily blog on the impacts of gentrification in Decatur, Ga. It bridges the posts I wrote last year for the National Council on Public History blog and the article I am completing for one of the American Sociological Association’s journals. The Tikkun post attracted comment writers who live in Decatur and whose comments underscored the points made in the post about the class/ethnic disconnect between older residents — “stayers” or “community anchors” — and later-stage gentrifiers who map their values of wealth and homeownership onto people who have different value systems and who measure wealth and attachment differently.
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In the years bracketing the turn of the 20th century, Atlanta, Georgia’s periphery was filling in with residential subdivisions. The city’s development pattern was comparable to other regional cities, like Charlotte, North Carolina, and to cities farther north like Baltimore and Philadelphia. By 1900, many residential subdivisions had taken root along Atlanta’s spreading streetcar infrastructure. Some, like the Atlanta Suburban Land Company’s South Kirkwood (in 1899, part of Kirkwood), became incorporated towns.
Other subdivisions, like the land company’s East End and Poplar Springs subdivisions in what is now the heart of Decatur’s Oakhurst neighborhood, remained unincorporated DeKalb County until annexation by Decatur in 1915 and 1916. Continue reading
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In October 1986 I spent a couple of days documenting a 20th century blacksmith shop that had been slated for removal in advance of a proposed shopping center development and highway widening. Located at the intersection of Due West Road and Dallas Highway (SR 120), the shop was the first of two Cobb County blacksmith shops I documented in 1986 and 1987. This is the second in a series of posts on the shops. Continue reading
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Gilbert E. Palen.
In 1856, Gilbert E. Palen (1832-1901) was a newly minted MD who decided to forego a career in medicine. Instead, he and a cousin (who also happened to be his brother-in-law), George W. Northrop (1812-1875), and brother Edward (1836-1924) opened a tannery along the banks of Brodhead Creek in rural Monroe County in the heart of Pennsylvania’s Pocono Mountains. The Palens and Northrop named their new tannery town Canadensis (from the Latin species name for the hemlock trees, Tsuga canadensis) and they built large Gothic Revival homes across the street from their industrial complex.
Gilbert, Edward, and Northrop tanned leather in Canadensis between 1856 and 1873, the year the family’s firms failed in the national depression. The Canadensis tannery was a stepping stone for Gilbert Palen. He was perhaps a fourth generation tanner who learned the trade in his family’s plants throughout Ulster and Greene counties in New York’s Catskill Mountains. Between 1802 and 1873, the Palens had built and bought at least seventeen tanneries in New York and Pennsylvania . They were, as one nineteenth century trade journal remarked, “par excellence , a family of tanners.” Continue reading
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