Field Day of the Past

Early morning is my favorite time of day. Like many parts of the country, our summer here in Virginia was wretchedly hot. Even the pre-dawn hours brought little relief from the heat. Lately, though, our mornings have been cool and the air feels light. It is a pleasure to be up before the sun.

On Sunday, I picked Robespierre up at 7:30 and we headed a few miles west to Goochland County. Our destination was the annual Field Day of the Past. The event actually runs for three full days, and our friend Sam is one of the coordinators.

Field Day of the Past is like an old-time county fair. It features historical displays and exhibits, re-enactments, tractor and truck pulls, small engine displays, arts and crafts, flea market, antique and modern construction equipment demonstrations, and a log cabin with ongoing heritage craft demonstrations.

Permanent exhibits and structures include a working United States post office, a 1930's grocery store and garage, fire lookout tower, blacksmith shop, wood wright shop, ice house, gold mining equipment, Pullman railroad car and engine buildings.

There are also farm animals, antique cars & trucks, and carnival rides. It was a gorgeous, sunny day, and we had great fun roaming the 50+ acres. Robespierre & I arrived there first, but soon we were joined by Morris, and then we met up with Sadie & Sheldon at the Short Pump Garage.

We really had a wonderful time. It was similar in some ways to our state fair, but without the sleaze factor. You are invited to roam through this post just as we explored the grounds of Field Day of the Past. I'll provide a bit of commentary & explanation, but I'm devoting most of the space to images of the late summer event.

The Dream Camper has its own bathroom in tow. It's there to the left with the deer head hanging off the side. Below, Robespierre chats with Sheriff Britches.












Our next stop requires some explanation. This shed is the sorghum mill, and we got to taste the sorghum syrup that was made right there. Sugar cane does not grow well in this area, so sorghum was grown, pressed, and cooked into a syrup for use as an everyday sweetener in the old days. I love the taste!

The green liquid running from the press (below) was mashed from stalks of sorghum. The stalks were fed by hand into the press, which was operated by a belt connected to a farm tractor. The juice from the sorghum cane is then cooked over a fire until a thick syrup is achieved. Exhibits like this really made me appreciate the simplicity of making food in older times.


Our day was a visual feast. I have been fascinated with old automobiles since the time I was a kid, so I took lots of pictures of the antique cars & trucks. I remember my dad talking about his Aunt Liza's (the one who lived in the huge, creepy house) preference for Packards. The one below appears to be a Roadster, probably built in 1930 - possibly 1929.




Below is the cab of a small mail delivery van, with a single wheel in the front and two in the back.


The next picture needs a description, also. This is a James River batteau. Batteaux were essential river conveyances during colonial times & later, able to navigate the James River with their shallow-draft, flat-bottomed hulls. The flat bottoms provided stability and the capability of hauling heavy loads of goods.



I loved this unrestored truck, inside & out.





Little wooden ice cream spoons!





1957!















Pig Races!

1957!







1956 Ford Sunliner...don't you love that name?

Robespierre liked this lawnmower.


The huffing, chugging, clanking, hissing machine below operated the sawmill blade that turned huge tree trunks into smooth, wooden planks. I'll never look at lumber at Home Depot with the same insouciance. Seeing a tree turned into building planks so quickly made me wonder how we can ever grow them fast enough.


That's the end of our tour. You can run off & take a turn on the ferris wheel if you like, but remember you just ate that funnel cake and a cone of homemade ice cream so don't even think about those rides that make you sick everytime you talk me into buying you a ticket. If you do, you're riding home in the back of the pick-up truck.

The Village of Dashed Dreams

Westover Church, circa 1730
I had a wonderful Labor Day weekend, and I hope you did, too. I had four days away from the office, and I threatened myself with public lashing every time I was tempted to go there "just to catch a few things up during the off-hours." A few of us had kicked around the idea of going to Hillsville for their annual Labor Day Flea Market & Gun Show, but our collective good sense prevailed. For one thing, it was a last minute idea (which would not have deterred us), but then Robespierre's knee "swole up" to the size of a grapefruit and we didn't have time to rent him a scooter.

Still, just think of the pictures I could have taken! The flea market, one of the largest east of the Mississippi, would have been a giant, outdoor People of Walmart photo extravaganza. Brenda even designed a Bingo card to take with me with items like Beanie Babies, Funnel Cakes, knives & ammo, boxes of 8-track tapes, and (my favorite) Sno-Cone machine surrounded by bees. Oh, well, perhaps next year.

Cemetery at Westover Church
Sheldon called me and asked if I would be interested in a Bill-style road trip on Sunday, which means there's a firm departure point, but everything else is up for grabs. Sheldon, Sadie & I headed east on Route 5, the Plantation Route, first making a stop at Country Style Donuts.

Route 5 parallels the north bank of the James River, passing by old plantations such as Shirley, Berkeley, Edgewood, Westover, Evelynton, Belle Air, Sherwood Forest, and Weyanoke. A rural oasis between Richmond and Williamsburg, this landscape was the first westward expansion of English-speaking America. The two-lane highway curves and winds through gently rolling countryside, alternating expanses of fields with stretches of trees that arch over the road. Our first stop was at Westover Church, which sits at the end of a dirt lane that crosses a field (currently soybeans).

There were several very friendly parishioners outside waiting for church to start, and they urged us to take a look inside. Westover Parish was established in 1613 on Westover Plantation, and our hosts told us that the church was moved to the current spot because the Byrd family grew tired of feeling obligated to feed churchgoers on their plantation by 1730.

Our next stop was River's Rest, a resort on the Chickahominy River that was hell to find. After a wrong turn, Sheldon & I got into a giggle fit. Sadie was bewildered by our silliness, but we can be like two 8-year-old boys when we're together. Once we extricated ourselves from the backwoods, we blundered our way to River's Rest, which turned out to be a well-maintained marina with a tidy motel, pool, and riverside restaurant.

River's Rest Marina on the Chickahominy River
We continued on to Jamestown, where we caught the ferry to the south bank of the James, disembarked at Scotland, and drove a few miles to Surry Courthouse.

Gulls at the Jamestown Ferry
After eating lunch and exploring the county seat, I asked Sheldon to drive a few miles east. I was curious to see if an old friend, an abandoned house in the country, was still standing up to the combined forces of gravity and invasive vines. The last time I saw it was in March of 2009, and it looked like this:

It's still there, and it looks about the same structurally. In the photo above, taken at the end of the winter season, the vines were hanging on but dormant. Here's how it looked this Labor Day weekend, after the vines flourished over the summer:

Incredible, isn't it? Here's a closer look...


I was a high school hooligan when I first found this house, and you can read about my criminal past by clicking here.

Sheldon & Sadie found a small family cemetery off to the side of the property, and I finally located the owner of the house, Ruth Dearth. My assumption that she had died and the house then abandoned was true. She lived a long life in this old homestead.

We traveled west on Route 10 to return home. This road is the southern counterpart to Route 5, but is not quite as pretty. Still, it's rural, so there are certain charms. One diversion was a side trip to Claremont.

Claremont is not on the way to anywhere. You need to make a determined effort to get there. It's not a town you're going to find by passing through, because it's at the end of the road, pal. If you don't find what you're looking for in Claremont, you've gotta backtrack to return to a highway that has lines painted on it. And your chances of finding something are slim, because there's only one old convenience store that still hangs an open sign on the door.

I kinda like Claremont.

Shopping district in downtown Claremont

...don't forget these stores!
Claremont is located on bluffs above the river. The James is wide and navigable here, and Claremont was a port town with a busy wharf during the late 1600's & 1700's. With our system of modern roadways, it's easy to forget that rivers were once the safest, most reliable means of transporting goods to colonial frontier settlements.

Two satellite dishes connect this house with the larger world
Claremont had high hopes of becoming a boom town in the 1880's when it became the eastern terminus of the Atlantic & Danville Railway. An old map shows hundreds of building lots planned for streets that do not exist today. At least two hotels were built. Unfortunately for Claremont, the rail line was narrow-gauge, which was discontinued in favor of standard-gauge. The A&D Railway elected to connect its lines to Portsmouth in the Tidewater region. Claremont's hopes of becoming a commercial center were dashed.

Claremont Public Library

Coming Soon!
This building was once the survey office, and faces a small traffic circle, not that there's much traffic to control these days. The hopeful Coming Soon! sign has been on this charming structure for at least two years. I hope something comes there soon. It's hard to visit Claremont without seeing its potential as a viable riverfront resort community. Just down from the bluffs, along the banks of the James, there is a string of nice, modern cottages and a boat landing. Perhaps one day Claremont's potential will be realized.

Another defunct commercial building, with a fenced junkyard in the back
If you go to Claremont, you'll see that some homes are occupied. Many, however, are not. We counted at least five old houses in a row that were abandoned & overgrown on our way into town. Today, Claremont sleeps, but I hope it still dreams.

A granite marker in the little circle in downtown Claremont

Upward Glances

Few people spend much time looking up.

After a meeting Saturday morning, Morris & I hopped in my car for a quick photo-blitz along a couple of blocks of downtown Grace Street in Richmond.

Most of these photos capture what's above eye-level. Some very fine decorative detail is generally ignored by people hurrying along the street on a weekday. Saturday morning the street traffic was almost nil, and the sidewalks were empty. The day promised to be hot, but the mercury hadn't climbed too high at mid-morning.

This area a few blocks west of the Capitol was a fashionable residential neighborhood in the mid-1800's. The townhouses that lined the street lost favor to properties farther out on more expansive grounds. As businesses encroached, many of the old homes were demolished to make way for exciting new 20th Century commercial buildings.

These blocks along Grace Street display many fine decorative architectural features.



After strolling around and craning our necks skyward, we were ready to look down at a plate of breakfast. Morris suggested Perly's at 111 East Grace Street.

Perly's has been there for years, and is a charming urban diner with excellent food.

I had an omelet with muenster cheese, old-fashioned grits (the real deal, not insipid instant grits; these had enough body to hold your spoon upright), and a homemade biscuit.

Perly's has daily lunch specials. Chicken 'n dumplings happen every Friday. They also serve lemon chess pie, made right there with fresh lemons. I love me some lemon chess pie, so I'm eager to give it a try.

Perly's is a laid-back, friendly place with good food at reasonable prices, which attracts a regular clientele.

After breaking our fast, it was time to take a few more pictures...





This section of the 200 block reveals its transition from residential to commercial life. The storefronts are shabby, and you can see how the retail additions were tacked onto the fronts of the original townhomes, obliterating the small front gardens. From this view, it's impossible to overlook the crumbling housefronts over top of the shops. Strolling the sidewalk directly in front of these businesses, the houses at the core of the storefronts do not exist in the minds of most pedestrians.

You get a clear idea of the precarious existence of these once-lovely old homes in the picture below. This house may have watched over a little boy getting a puppy for his birthday, a daughter waiting for her first date, parents receiving a telegram about their son during a World War. The joys and worries this house has witnessed are long forgotten. Now, from all appearances, no one watches over this house in its time of distress. A brief upward glance is all we can spare.

During the early years of the last century, people moved their households from this area to the suburbs, and came back here to shop. Two or three decades later, they moved the stores out to the suburbs, too. When I first came to Richmond, this part of town was forlorn by day and forbidding at night. I'm happy that downtown Richmond is turning in its tracks, and this section is showing early signs of new life. Vast empty spaces on the upper floors of many buildings are transitioning from commercial to residential. People are moving back to downtown Richmond.

The last two photographs are of a house that seems mostly intact, at least from the front. It is sandwiched between two commercial buildings, but the ironwork on the front porch is about as intricate as it gets. The Joseph P. Winston House was built in the 1870's.

This porch is indicative of the role Tredegar Iron Works played in Richmond's past. From its foundry on the banks of the James River, Tredegar supplied the required material to the armed forces of the Confederacy during the Civil War, and for the reunited nation during World Wars I & II.

Historians who know a lot more than I ever will say that, in total, Richmond's old neighborhoods have more decorative ironwork than either Charleston or New Orleans, and after exploring the city I can believe it. Street after street in neighborhoods all around town, homes with elaborate iron porches, entablatures, lintels, and balustrades abound. The entire fronts of some buildings are made of iron in the commercial districts.

That concludes our little tour of the decorative building arts in Richmond. I'm glad I took the time to get out of my car to walk, to look, and to look up.

See you around. Who knows where we'll end up next time as we explore the world.

Fright Elevator

I had to take the fright elevator up to my office this morning, because they posted this notice in the lobby yesterday advising us that the passenger elevators would be out of service.

The placard was a bit misleading, because the freight elevator isn't half as terrifying as the passenger elevators. The cornerstone of the building says 1958, and I think the main elevators are held together with mid-century spit, fishing line, and a dab of library paste. The elevators break down frequently, but usually not simultaneously. Oddly enough, my cell phone works fine in the elevator cabs, so it would be fairly simple to call for help if I got stranded. This is especially comforting when I work Saturdays, and seem to be the only person in the building.

I'm keeping my fingers crossed that we will relocate the office soon from the sixth to the third floor, which will mean I can eschew the lifts in favor of the escalators which serve floors one through four. The escalators break down, too, but I think an escape plan would be easier to manage compared to a stalled elevator.