UPDATE ON THE GURDON BILL CARRIAGE HOUSE

It might be a misnomer to label it the Gurdon Bill carriage house, as it looks to be much later than the store, and Gurdon may have passed on by then. It might, in fact, be as late as 1874, when the farm was donated to the Congregational Church, the house becoming the parsonage. It might be that Henry Bill, who did the donating, figured the parson needed a carriage house, I dunno.

But I was lucky enough to have David Holdridge show me its interior on the same sunny day I photographed the Way Station, so here it is, along with some history.

Handmade coat pegs at the bottom of the stairs. Using tree branch bends, the strongest hooks possible.

Yankees. Frugal AND practical.

At the top of the stairs, a colorful stencil utilising a bluebird motif.

The stencil goes around the building's rafter plates and girts 360 degrees. Someone had some time on their hands. Or it was  a schoolroom, which seems possible, considering the parsonage across the street.

But there was another reason..

The Dutch door I saw from the outside still functions as such. Lets air in while keeping little kids from diving to the ground? Maybe. But not in this position..

A very cool second floor, and the roof is newer than the original structure. No patina, just bright wood. Kind of looks like a schoolroom.

As soon as I saw this sign that reads "Stork Club," I knew it was much older than recent. The Stork Club was a famous restaurant/watering hole for the elite of the world located in Manhattan, operating from the thirties until the mid-sixties. Whoever painted this sign was no schoolteacher or preacher. Dancing, drinking, and partying, doncha know.

The room was pretty dark, and the pic is a tad blurred.

This adjacent sign refers to a popular radio series from the thirties and forties, so the dating is getting more refined. The show was dark and often spooky, unlike this very open and airy room.

Nevermind that Inner Sanctum Records was one of my hangouts near the University of Texas in Austin in the 70s and 80s. I practically lived at the import bin.

The Dog House. No reference to anything in particular, but there have been a slew of clubs in Connecticut that went by that name. Sounds like somebody was missing the good life.

The Dutch door also sports a sign. "The Powder Room."

It can refer to the room for storing gunpowder on board a ship, especially a Man O' War or their quarry, the Pirate ship. Powder rooms were especially reinforced to keep them from getting wet or, more importantly, from blowing up.

But it also refers to a place for ladies to powder their noses, fix makeup, and get away from men.

And all my suppositions, once I wrung the story of what went on in this carriage house, became clear as just that: guesses, and wrong ones at that. I was partly right, but the actual history was much more interesting than a possible schoolroom.

First, no schoolroom would allow that kind of graffiti.

So when I attended Ledyard History Day about three weeks ago, the locals told me that during World War II, while all the men were away fighting, crops still had to be brought in and tended. The locals imported a bunch of young college-age kids to do the farm work, and the grounds behind the Way Station and barn (yes, there was a barn behind the carriage house, and it now resides in Barn Heaven) became the Campground. It was a small town in some ways, and it was also co-ed! It's said that the girls stayed in the carriage house loft while the boys stayed in tents on the grounds proper. My guess is that there was some fraternization between the sexes. I'm being sexist here, but I'll bet the girls did the stenciling and the boys did the signage, probably to irk the girls, especially the Powder Room.

Right this way, ladies.

Luckily, life preservers were provided.

I like the repair to the window to the left.

No muntin? No problem! We got glass!

I looked for a covered-over hole that might have held a stove flue, but found none. I still suspect that the framework I featured in the first "Gurdon Bill Store" post a few posts ago held a flue. Those girls probably got cold during harvest time. Could be they replaced the boards on both sides, because no sign of one (other than the metal frame on the exterior) remains.

This is the large bay for the carriage. Its size gives the impression that it was a pretty fine carriage. The door size does not suggest a wagon AND carriage could have comfortably been removed, and there WAS a barn for wagons and horses. I wisht I could have presented the bay without the effluvia, but the darned History Day people wouldn't clean it out for me. Darn.

The floor is VERY thick and made of extremely durable antique southern yellow longleaf pine.

The next post will reveal the secret of The Mysterious White Granite and where it actually came from.

Now I Know!

And so will you.