Pizza Pies

2/9/2020.
Today is National Pizza Day.  And, YES, I will be making a cheese & pepperoni pizza tonight.

I am including a previous published blog. Many of my new followers may have not seen it.

Enjoy your PIZZA day!      

Research tells me the first American pizzas were known as “tomato pies.” Tomato pies are built the opposite of the “Pizza Pie,” first the cheese, then the toppings, then the sauce.

It wasn’t until the 1950s that Americans started to notice pizza. Celebrities of Italian origin such as Jerry Colona, Frank Sinatra, Jimmy Durante, and baseball star Joe DiMaggio all devoured pizza. It is also said that the line from the song by famous singer Dean Martin, “When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie, that’s amore,” set America singing and eating pizzas! [1953].

I cannot remember having a pizza during World War II or before. My parents would try many places for a Saturday night pizza. The closest pizzas were the Bridgwaye Inn and the Humarock Lodge, but neither were satisfactory.

Next tries were a place in Fieldston, then Brant Rock, with no luck.

A Greek restaurant in Scituate, nope. Not that these pizzas were bad — they just were not pleased with some part of the pizza.

Maybe 1947 or 8, my uncle Herb, Dad’s twin, got a nighttime job at the Rockland Bar and Grille in Rockland. Herb alerted my parents to the great pizzas. One Saturday night we drove to Rockland to try one. I think in those days there were only cheese pizzas. It was great!

Whenever my folks wanted a pizza, off to Rockland we went. I can remember after I got my driving license (May 1951), I would be sent to Rockland for a takeout pizza.

In 1949 or 50, a new building was constructed at 20 Sea Street, in Humarock (really Seaview). A family from Quincy, that operated a pizzeria in Quincy, opened Miramare Pizza as a summer business.

There was Sal, the cook; his sister Celeste was the waitress and cook; and the matriarch mother, Naomi, ran the cash register. They would let me stash my bike behind the building when I went to Humarock. This was during the rebuilding of the new Sea Street bridge, during the summer of ‘ 51 (completed in 1952).

After stashing my bike, I would take my chances crossing the bridge over the catwalks provided for the work crew. They were planks maybe 10” wide and stretched randomly across the spans of the old part — and some of the new parts of the construction too. We kids from both sides would, at night, go to Humarock or cross back to get to the pizzerias, or to “Stead’s.”

Pizzerias, yes. At one time, another pizzeria opened in the Davis bakery across from Miramare’s.

Miramare’s pizza place had plenty of parking, but the joint across the street did not — so people would park in Miramare’s lot and walk across the street to the other place.

Well Naomi would have no part of that. She would yell out the front door to get the hell out of her lot! If they did not respond, Naomi would stomp right up the stairs into the joint and make them move their car or she would call the cops. She would make quite a scene!

Some of my friends liked the other pizzas. One time I joined them but didn’t purchase any food, only a soda. Well Naomi saw me coming out of the joint and did she give me hell.

I explained I didn’t buy anything but a soda. It didn’t matter. If you’re going in there, don’t come in here!”

Later that night, I went into Miamare’s for a pizza with a friend. I got the cold shoulder from the old matriarch.

One cheese pizza: 75 cents. Two drinks: 20 cents. A 15 cent tip. Total: $1.10, split 55 cents each. That was the summer of 1952.

 

Miramare’s stayed into the 60s. It closed soon after Sal died.

Now Papa Gino’s gets our $10-$12! We don’t have a Papa’s here in “Down East” Maine, so my wife and I put together a pretty good ‘roni and ‘shroom pizza every Sunday night.

I don’t remember 5 cents.
But I do remember a 10 cent  slice.

There’s no better feeling in the world than a warm pizza box on your lap.

Kevin James

Ray Freden
Sea View resident 60 years, Marshfield, 70

Whites Ferry, Sea View, Marshfield.

My blogs have been  remembrances of my Village of Seaview, although I have strayed  from here & there.  Knowing Whites Ferry, as a young lad, was the cast iron sign on the corner of the Sea Street bridge.  I envisoned the ferry as  a motor boat full of passengers crossing the river.  It’s only taken me over 70 years to re-envision a 1600 or 1700’s barge full of livestock crossing the river, and scared out of their hides.

Ray thinks Whites Ferry, for man and cattle, would have looked much like this.

Sketch by Ray Freden

There is plenty to read of the early ferries, but details of the operation are slim. Whites Ferry’s details are  non existent!  So I have compiled some bits and pieces so you and I can take the Ferry from the landing and cross the river.

In the mid-1600’s, the Colonists found themselves continually searching new areas for their needs….timber for building shelters, fertile land for crops, grazing cattle and flowing water for power. They followed trails blazed by the Indians hundreds of years before the white man arrived . The Indians had names for things and places, but the colonists needed their own identification in their own language.

The main trail the Pilgrims used was the ”Greene’s Harbor Path”(Green)?              Which wound it’s way from Plymouth to ”Greene’s Harbor”… named after an early settler.

The Pilgrim Trail began as a foot path used by the native Indians.

This trail later became The Pilgrim Trail that led to Rexhame.  The trail also led to a crossing over the North River at Rogers Wharf,  where the court ordered a ferry crossing.
September 1638, the Court ordered:    “the building of two vessells or boats, one for carring of men  and  another for cattell, of the said North River, with a sufficient man or two to attend them.”

Sketch by W. Ray Freden

The first ferryman was Jonathan Brewster.   There are no records showing that  the ferry took the Brewster name.  Three  years later, 1641, the Ferry was sold to Mr. John  Barker,  Mr. Howell & other investors, with no records showing  the Ferry being named Barker-Howell Ferry Service.   In another sale in 1645, a Mr. Ralph Chapman operated the Ferry once again with no record of the Ferry’s name.   The name ”Whites Ferry” is non-existent  until 1712.  All prior reference I find is, ”The Ferry at New Marsh Harbour” or ”the Ferry near the mouth of the river.”   The Ferry was in operation for 74 years without a formal name until 1712,  when  Benjamin  White took over the Ferry.
However, Cynthia Hagar Krusell’s history shows that Benjamin’s father, Cornelius White, was a ship builder with a yard and was running a ferry service there.   Hence, ”Whites Ferry”.

I found this in L. Vernon Briggs’  ” North River Shipbuilding”:
“Benjamin White was a lineal descendant of Peregrine White and was born in August 1795. Cornelius White, great, great grandfather of Benjamin, lived at Whites Ferry.  He was a shipbuilder and a man of considerable means in his day.  He owned the Ferry boat at one time, it is said”. “it is said” ?
I have found some of the dates don’t jive !  So, do not take the dates I have used as accurate,

Ray’s painting depicts Rogers Wharf with a ferry tied along side.

Whites Ferry,  and the community  of  Littletown lived together as one village for nearly 250 years. The Keen’s, and  Hall’s, built homes on Ferry & Elm St. and were considered  “Whites Ferry” residents.

Barstow Carver, a shipwright at the  White’s Ferry Yards, was referred to as a resident of Whites Ferry.  His  1820 home was on Elm St,  [110 Elm St., corner of Sea St.] which was the Freden residence for 38 years.

Whites Ferry was an ideal ship-building settlement.  There were nine feet of tidal water and a short distance from the mouth leading to the ocean,  a barrier beach peninsular for safe mooring with deep water off Pincin’s Bank ( the area of Little’s Creek mouth), a forest of virgin timber nearby,  iron ore a few miles inland, and the village of Littletown,  growing with industries favorable to the shipbuilding needs.
Lodging, stables, blacksmiths, sail-makers, farmers, shoe & boot makers were now a necessity . A  ”B. shop” ( Blacksmith)  is seen on an 1838 map of Marshfield beside the Hall’s  shipyard on Ferry St.  Notice on this 1838 map, John Ford Jr. puts Whites Ferry in the Hummocks ( Humarock).  Others put the Ferry at the Rogers Wharf.

From L.to R., Ferry st.,  lower L., Elm St.  intersecting with Ferry St.
No Sea St. & no Ireland Rd.
The lower Wharf is the Keen Yard, next above is Hall’s Yard & Blacksmiths Shop. Top, is Rogers Wharf.  Across is Whites Ferry landing place in the Hummocks, ( Humarock).

 

Looking North from the Keen Yard.

Painting by W. Ray Freden

This ad was posted in an 1800’s street listing.
”Ferry” refers to Ferry St., ”S.V.” refers to Sea View.

These yards, with their docks, allowed the farmers & tradesmen  a means of shipping goods via packet ship from Whites Ferry village to distances far beyond horse and wagon, and with less costs. The wharfs of Whites Ferry became an important trade terminal coming and going.

The Whites Ferry yards outfitted  hundreds of ships built up-river. Cabinet makers finished cabins & trim-work,  Shipwrights installed masts, booms and spars, and sail-makers rigged the canvas.  Ropes and lines were fitted by Rope-makers, while blocks and pulleys were made by other woodworking specialist’s.
Early rope-making.

Are you ready for a river crossing?  Be prepared, there is no cabin, poor seating and virtually no comforts.  Lets say it’s early to mid-1800’s, 200 years ago!  One just doesn’t show up and expect to cross at will.  Being on  a tidal river, crossing depended on the height of tide and currents.  At low tide the ferry was usually grounded and it  would take 6 hours before a full high tide. The  ferry was stranded until enough water rose to float it.


This sketch depicts a passenger ferry.
Notice the the polemen struggling with the tide and possibly unfavorable winds!

Most crossings would take place at the high tide approaching  near noon-time. With  a rise of about nine feet,  That would be a vertical rise of 1  1/2 ft.  per hour.  It might take up to a  3-feet rise to float a loaded ferry, so with an arrival at 9 am to load up, it would be afloat about 11 am……that’s 1 hour before a  high ebb tide. Loading a ferry could be a smooth and easy event, if one had some experience and common sense.
First, the horse & carriage.  If this was a new venture for a young horse it could take quite some time.  When the loading ramp is in the down position,  the horse could be led up to and on the ferry.  Some experienced horses could be driven  on without a hitch,  so to speak.

Once aboard, that doesn’t mean you have a happy animal.  Many have to be restrained,  once again taking up valuable time.

”Time and tide waits for no man”

Once the ferry is  afloat,  the ferry men would use long push-poles to move the ferry, pushing into the incoming tide.  The  current  would carry them up-stream, and the pole-pushing would be at a 90º push across to the other side.  Therefore,  a crab-angle would be needed to achieve a predicted landing spot. As the tide slowed & ebbed near,  the crab-angle lessened.  The landing spot on the Hummock, the Scituate  side,  was a man-dug cove offering an  undisturbed, free from current, landing location.  Unloading would only take a few minutes.

Once across the river, the ramp would be lowered for passengers, livestock, and then horse, and wagon.

After unloading on the Hummock, it was nearly a two-mile trip northbound through a path of blown-in sand dunes that many times required a helping push of the wagon.  This trip could take as long as two hours!

The cart-path crossing the barrier beach connecting Third & Fourth Cliffs before November 1898.

Quite often Packet ships could not get through the North River’s  mouth due to the shifting sand bars.     Sometimes it became necessary to travel to the Scituate Wharfs to meet-up with the re-routed Packets.

Most of the crossings were a  fight against the tide. That was easy compared to the  never-ending wind!  A Southeast wind was bad, but a Northeast was brutal!  These two directions affected Whites Ferry the most. A fully loaded  Ferry was like a sail boat!   A  20-mph wind was  difficult to pole against and a 30-35-mph kept the Ferry at a standstill, or even backwards!  Those caught by surprise might have landed a great distance away from the planned landing spot.  Many Ferry crossings were postponed or canceled.

There were  Ferry’s using cables which followed  the same route to and from.   I expect Whites Ferry was poled or rowed as I previously stated.  That meant it could land on the Marshfield side at any convenient stopping spot. The  areas  from the north end of Ferry Hill to the now Ridge Rd. area ( The Keen’s Yard)  provided different landing places.
It has been assumed that the crossing was at the site of the historic sign and followed the  route of  the Sea St bridge, That’s not necessarily true, as the returning ferries had nearly a half-mile of different landing locations.

A horse and carriage traveling on the new Sea St. towards the Humarock   Bridge. The  Whites Ferry Stables, right center, corner of Ferry St.        

c. before 1901.

That Ferry service lasted over 244 years, and was virtually unchanged…..that’s eight family generations!   It’s a shame this historic place is overlooked.   The area has been lost as an important contributor to the growth of Humarock.   There is no recognition of the Keen Shipyard, the Hall Shipyard,  and  Rogers Wharf.

This small community within the Village of Sea View ( re-named from Littletown),  about 1873, should be recognized and deemed a National Historic site!

A Brigantine  built at the Hall Yard.

”A ship in port is safe, but that’s not what ships are built for.”
Grace Hopper.

Note:
Some names have been found spelled two ways, i.e. Keen/Keene.
Also, some of this blog has been theorized by me, however, most of the facts have been gleaned from L. Vernon Briggs’,  ” History of Ship Building on the North River”
Any comments or corrections will gladly be received. 

 

W.Ray Freden.  SeaView, Marshfield 70 years.

 

The Old Railroad Bed

 

In the early 40’s I walked the ”Old Railroad Bed” trying to span the ruts and valley’s of the removed ties.  I even tried to ride my bike over them… to no avail.


The valley’s are long gone!

At a young age, I was allowed to walk the bed down to “the crossing”, a cart path that ran from Station St. to David Seager’s well house ( now Pinehurst Drive).  There were Towhee’s scratching  in the leaves, an Ovenbird singing deeper in the woods. I saw the only one Redstart in my life, and my first Scarlet Tanager.


 

Later  in the afternoon I remember scaring-up Woodcocks feeding along the edges of the banking.

 

A resident Box Turtle  and I crossed paths many times. I would  always check  it out to see if it had the initials “BB” carved in its bottom shell. I could never confirm who ” BB” was.



I left the vicious Snappers alone,  and the fast  little Painted ones alluded me.

When I got older, I was allowed to travel farther away from home.
After the crossing,  there was a large cornfield.  I remember scaring up  hundreds of Mourning Doves many times.


Meadow Larks were a common sight in these same fields.
They often sat on the fence posts or as seen here on the barbed wire.

 

Sometimes, stuffed in my pocket, I had a hook and line wrapped up in brown paper. I’d search for a worm or bug to attach, hoping to catch young trout in the stream running though a culvert under the old bed. We locals called it Pocahontas creek. The trout were too small to bring home, but this was my entertainment.

One day I was sitting  on the banking waiting for a bite and a four-foot Black Racer snake slithered by, not five feet away!  In the years I plied that old bed, I encountered Garter snakes, Milk snakes, a Puff Adder, some Grass snakes, a number of ribbon snakes….all of which I chased down and caught just for fun. I knew these were non-poisonous and most didn’t try to bite.

Returning home late in the afternoon, I looked up and watched  the hundred or more crows returning to roost in the great pines on Seager’s Hill.

Quite often, a bevy of Bob White Quail would scamper through the brush rattling  the leaves. I knew when early evening came, the Bobwhites would call, whistling ‘bob-bob-white’, over and over.
I wonder if there are any Bobwhites left?

 

As I continued my stroll home, a Cottontail rabbit was sitting motionless until I was two feet from it. The little guy leaped into the air, flipped to one side and scampered out of sight!  It’s unusual departure made me laugh.

Just after dusk a Red Fox would bark, it was more like a ‘ba-a-a-rh’ ! I could imitate the bark well. I used to think we were talking to each other.

 

Just after dusk, one of my favorite bird calls would be heard, a  Whip-poor-Will would tune in with its song.
‘whip-poor-will’, ‘whip-poor-will’, over and over.

Look up the folklore of the Whippoorwill, aka goat sucker.

At my bedtime the Tree Frogs would peep , peep & peep -me-to-sleep.

 

“Nature is mans teacher, she unfolds her treasure to his search, unseals his eyes, illumes his mind, and purifies his heart;  An influence breathes from all sights and sounds of her existence.”
                                   Alfred Billings Street.


So-called “progress”, has utterly destroyed  this amazing wildlife stage that Mother Nature provided for me.  The clearing of land, the housing developments , the paved roads…. all this has done away with these creatures’ homes. Not one of these creatures could prevent this kind of destruction to their beloved village and they just moved away in silence.
Today, there is only one creature left to help save what’s left of this habitat…… that’s Man:  people, neighbors, abuters, and the power company!
This old Railroad bed has all of the requirements to remain a nature path , not a wide groomed roadway made easy for man to walk without getting his Nike Dunk Low’s or Yeezy’s dirty.
Have you ever noticed these creatures that walk paths through the woods  never look dirty?
 Even more wildlife, that I have not mentioned, once roamed this old bed.  Pay attention  people, when the creatures are gone, we will follow.
I challenge anyone to find the same observations  today, exploring that old Railroad bed!

Coincidentally, I just ran across this information published in a local newspaper.

“People need to pay attention to the birds around them because they are slowly disappearing,” said study lead author Kenneth Rosenberg, a Cornell University conservation scientist. “One of the scary things about the results is that it is happening right under our eyes. We might not even notice it until it’s too late.” Material from The Associated Press.
And more of Ken’s findings:
“Grassland birds have declined by 53% since 1970- A loss of 700 million adults in the 31 species studied, including Meadowlarks and Northern Bobwhites.”

 

W. Ray Freden
Seaview/ Marshfield 70 years.