GURDON BILL'S STORE

LEDYARD, CONNECTICUT

The name "Gurdon Bill" sounds like an outlaw from southwest Arkansas, if'n yew axe me. I AM from Arkansaw, and we DO have a town named Gurdon, famous for it's ghost light, which I went to see but didn't.

But Gurdon Bill was a local early citizen of the town of Ledyard, Connecticut, which is north of Groton and south of Preston in southeastern CT. This store, built in 1816, was a country store as well as a stagecoach stop. The left side has the store, the right side, a waiting area for stage passengers. It sits at a quaintly quiet crossroads a block from a very busy highway, and is well-known to backroads travelers but not so much to those speeding down highway 117. It is a mix of Colonial and Gothic architecture; the roof slope and footprint seem Colonial but the eave trim is all Gothic.

It sits on granite blocks, has original 6 over 6 window sashes, and is remarkably intact.

 Close-up of one of the north windows. All the original glass has been replaced with new 'float' glass, as evidenced by the smooth reflections. Old glass has lots of waves and bubbles. All, that is, except for the one pane with the hole in it. THAT pane is not only old, but is 'crown' glass, an extremely distorted hand-blown type of glass that came to the Colonies (or to The States, in this case) as ballast in tall ships. Before The War of British Tyranny, crown glass was sold to the Colonists with an attached tax that made them slightly angry. Making glass in The Colonies was illegal, as it might lead to independence. Apparently that didn't work out so good for the Brits after 1776.

Figures the best piece of glass (and the only original pane) would be broken.

 Another window on the north side has a sweet little poison ivy vine growing through it. Not the one below the sill, mind you, it's dead. The two at the bottom of the picture have entered between clapboards and  one has emerged at the bottom of the bottom sash while the other came out the top of the top sash. Insidious little buggers, aren't they?

 These appears to be entry points for a two-wire electrical feed from the early part of the 20th century. The insulators are inside the wall. Not exactly code.

The door threshold sports a cute little bear, mought be the Ledyard school colors, I dunno. Prolly not. I especially like the step and how it's cut. Gray granite? Or schist. I din't 'zamin it too good. Doesn't match the pinkish granite blocks of the foundation.

Unusual shutters. I'm not sure why there's a joint at the top, but it seems to be a fixed butt joint and not a hinged section. Likely closed 'em up tight after dark, possibly in the winter. But I like light in the winter, and so does everyone else. A little late in CT history for protection against Indian attacks. The windows themselves are sliders, meeting in the middle and slid (duh) to one side for air.



One of the hooks that held the closed shutters in place. Iron, it is, says Yoda. Needs to be stripped      and coated with Rust Converter whenever they decide to paint the building again. Hope it's soon.

One of the hinges is secured with what appears to be a re-bent coat hanger. Don't know why, as it doesn't look like the shutter can be removed without a struggle. And the wire isn't exactly a deterrent.



The upper section of shutter, also held with original hardware. I'd close them winders a bit tighter, if'n it wuzt me. Likely the upper section helped with the morning sun. It's doing so here.



Rust Converter, where are you?

This eye does not line up with the hook of the lower shutter, nor did I see anything to which it would attach on the window frame.

 I like this repair. Someone went to the trouble of braking the metal to match the crown moulding after the latter rotted away. Prolly aluminum, which is pronounced "loong-ning" in certain parts of the South.

The bottom of the door facing suffered from the same disease that most others have; no paint on the end grain that causes the base to rot. Thus the pieced-in replacement.

The only thing that makes me call part of this building "Gothic" is the angle of the façade fascia, tilted out slightly as opposed to ninety degrees from level. Note the other sheet-metal fix on the lower cornice. The cedar shakes, though old, seem to be doing their job. But then, I never did get inside the building. Hopefully will soon, and will add the interior pics to the blog. I did look in the window, and was amazed to see several skeletons and desiccated bodies of folks waiting on groceries or possibly a stagecoach.

No, NO! That's not true. I didn't get to see the stagecoach waiting room, of course, so I missed those bodies. I did see that the store is pretty intact inside as well, with an L-shaped counter and stock on the shelves. The accoutrement and furnishings look to be period.



 Behind the store, halfway to the barn that sits on the next lot, a large granite boulder leers at those who approach it.

A glacial erratic, this piece of white granite likely came from western Maine or The White Mountains of New Hampshire, where that rock is King. No white granite anywhere in CT, as far as I know. And certainly none in Ledyard, which is mostly mica schist. This fella was left here after the glaciers receded nineteen thousand years ago. A blip in geological time.

 The barn is pretty, though it doesn't look as if it gets much use now. I call it a barn, but its real purpose is unknown to me.

 Between the store and the barn, near the leering rock, a well-carved piece of white granite once held a wrought-iron gate. At least, I imagine it did, what with the ironmongery and all.

I might be wrong about the white granite being imported; the wall seems to be made of the stuff. Or they hacked these pieces off the leering rock.

There is actually lots of white granite in the state, almost all as rounded cobbles brought in by the glaciers as mentioned above. I've never seen an outcropping around Preston or Ledyard, but there are lots of places I haven't been. And the squared-off blocks in the wall are certainly not cobbles.

 Definitely Gothic lines in the barn's façade, what with the high-pitched roof and the central gable. A little Carpenter Gothic what with the bridgework above the door.

 So why have a door here at all? No sign of stairs, or of a pulley system for getting things up there. This is not a typical barn with a slanted approach, a threshing floor, and a rear door to allow wind to blow through as the grain is threshed, taking away the chaff and leaving the seed. Looks more like a workshop or garage. And why a Dutch-style door that has a top and bottom half?

 And though the lines are gothic, the tilt of the façade fascia present in the store is not repeated here. Ninety degrees , while the eave itself is on the same plane as the roof..

 Another puzzle. The two 90 degree iron brackets look to be installed sideways, as if to hold up a  stove pipe. Possibly the pipe burned the wood above, that also sports a piece of steel sheet metal? If so, why didn't it scorch the crown moulding? Methinks it was used for something else than a pipe support.

 A very fine building. I could have a shop there. If they'd let me.

 Red, now painted black, sporting its new teak grill. Gets a lot of looks. If you see it parked near an old building, I'll be nearby, taking pictures. Stop and say hi.

I have no knowledge of this guy, but he was apparently a Grand Pooh-Bah with the 'Pisple Church (another Arkie colloquialism, no meanness intended). Was he born in the store? No, it wasn't here then. I imagine there was another building there, but there is a fine central-chimney Colonial across the street. As it is someone's home, and not abandoned in the least, I did not picture it here. Leave people in peace, but document the architecture they leave behind. That's my motto.

Hopefully Bishop Seabury will forgive me. It's what Jesus would do.