UA-8412995-1 The Southport Globe

Thursday, November 26, 2015

Thanksgiving Proclamation 1789

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WHEREAS it is the duty of all nations to acknowledge the providence of Almighty God, to obey His will, to be grateful for His benefits, and humbly to implore His protection and favour; and Whereas both Houfes of Congress have, by their joint committee, requefted me "to recommend to the people of the United States a DAY OF PUBLICK THANKSGIVING and PRAYER, to be observed by acknowledging with grateful hearts the many and signal favors of Almighty God, especially by affording them an opportunity peaceably to eftablifh a form of government for their safety and happiness:"
NOW THEREFORE, I do recommend and affign THURSDAY, the TWENTY-SIXTH DAY of NOVEMBER next, to be devoted by the people of thefe States to the fervice of that great and glorious Being who is the beneficent author of all the good that was, that is, or that will be; that we may then all unite in rendering unto Him our fincere and humble thanksfor His kind care and protection of the people of this country previous to their becoming a nation; for the fignal and manifold mercies and the favorable interpofitions of His providence in the courfe and conclufion of the late war; for the great degree of tranquility, union, and plenty which we have fince enjoyed;-- for the peaceable and rational manner in which we have been enable to eftablish Conftitutions of government for our fafety and happinefs, and particularly the national one now lately instituted;-- for the civil and religious liberty with which we are bleffed, and the means we have of acquiring and diffufing useful knowledge;-- and, in general, for all the great and various favours which He has been pleafed to confer upon us.
And also, that we may then unite in moft humbly offering our prayers and fupplications to the great Lord and Ruler of Nations and befeech Him to pardon our national and other tranfgreffions;-- to enable us all, whether in publick or private ftations, to perform our feveral and relative duties properly and punctually; to render our National Government a bleffing to all the people by conftantly being a Government of wife, juft, and conftitutional laws, difcreetly and faithfully executed and obeyed; to protect and guide all fovereigns and nations (especially fuch as have shewn kindnefs unto us); and to blefs them with good governments, peace, and concord; to promote the knowledge and practice of true religion and virtue, and the increafe of fcience among them and us; and, generally to grant unto all mankind fuch a degree of temporal profperity as he alone knows to be beft.
GIVEN under my hand, at the city of New-York, the third day of October, in the year of our Lord, one thousand feven hundred and eighty-nine.
(signed) G. Washington
Source: The Massachusetts Centinel, Wednesday, October 14, 1789

Wednesday, November 25, 2015

Sasquatch (Bigfoot) runs in Southport Thanksgiving Day Race

Sasquatch (Bigfoot) runs in Thanksgiving Day Race

Written by E. Packer Wilbur
Running close to the front in the 1978 Pequot Runners Five Mile Thanksgiving Day Race in Southport, Connecticut, Andy Garson could hear heavy breathing just ahead of him and noticed a strong odor like charred wood or maybe burning rubber. As he covered the next few hundred yards he could hear the breathing drift behind him and the smell disappeared. Looking around, Andy couldn’t see the other runner and, as he neared the finish he began to focus on his own race and pushed the odd event into his subconscious. Later and on reflection, he thought: "well, I was kind of running on autopilot at the time and the endorphins must have been flowing so I could easily have been imagining things."

In 1985 the Thanksgiving Day Race was run during a light snowfall and Peter Donovan was coasting along well within his limits, enjoying the scenery and the companionship of the many other runners. About halfway through the Race, passing Sasco Creek Road, he began to see very large shoeless footprints appearing in the snow, one after another, just ahead of him and to his left. The effect was almost mesmerizing in its regularity. The snow was muffling the sound of footfalls so Peter couldn’t hear anything and, peering through the falling snow and the slight early morning mist drifting in from the Sound, he couldn’t see anyone either. Since his ears had already been assaulted by bagpipers at the beginning of the race and, later, by the "Theme from Rocky" blasting from a house on Beachside, perhaps he couldn’t have heard anything anyway. He soon moved ahead of the mysterious phenomenon and later, in his mind, ascribed it to the onset of runner’s high and maybe not enough sleep the night before the race. During the 1990's, the Pequot Running Club began to use tracking systems to automatically record the numbers and times of runners as they crossed the finish line. Duncan Harris was in charge of this process as it was developed and refined over the years and, as the years passed, he noticed that the same long nine digit number kept appearing in the tally – a number not assigned to any runner. It was as if someone or something had crossed the line unseen except by the electronic finishing technology. At first, he wrote it off as an anomaly which could be expected in such a complicated process but when the same number kept appearing year after year it became a topic for Board level discussion. No one could come up with an explanation and outside experts were similarly baffled.

The strange recurring number bothered Duncan, a scientist with a trained and mostly orderly mind. During a quiet vacation with his family in the Caribbean in the late winter of 2011, he took along the book Enigma: The Battle for the Code about the breaking of the German "Enigma" code during World War II. While reading the book, he thought about his finish results and wondered if the recurring number could be a form of code. Taking this idea as an hypothesis, his mind began to work on the problem and, as his daughters report, Duncan might as well have been on Mars for the rest of the holiday.

Working with some of the concepts from the book and his own knowledge of coding and computer analysis, it took about a week of effort for Duncan to identify the number as the likely product of a somewhat arcane coding system known as a Trifid Cipher (spelled with a single "f" unlike the plant species). Based on this insight, he painstakingly translated the recurring nine digit number into the word "SASQUATCH" and the pieces began to fall into place. Since the implications of this word were even more upsetting than its continued recurrence, Duncan kept his thinking to himself until the next Board meeting which led Peter to again mention his mysterious experience and Andy to then remember his own encounter.

This wasn’t something that Jeff Palmer, President of the Pequot Running Club  
wanted to put into the Board Minutes. Runners are all too aware that many non-runners think they must be out of their minds and this would certainly be further confirmation. Accordingly, the Board decided not to record their discussion of the possibility of an eight foot tall mythical creature running every year in their Thanksgiving Day Race.
Several Club members did do some historical research which didn’t yield much. About the best hypothesis anyone could come up with is that Sasquatch, sometimes known as Bigfoot, was somehow affiliated with the Sasqua and Pequot Indians who lived in the Southport area. Most other sightings of Bigfoot have been in the Pacific Northwest which could indicate that after the Great Swamp Fight in 1637 in Southport, he moved west ahead of encroaching settlers and the gold rush, ending up in the most wooded portion of the west coast.

Why would he come back to Southport? Well, a few wolves seem to be moving east and south back to New England – maybe Bigfoot moves with the wolves. Around Thanksgiving there are lots of wild turkeys in this area and perhaps it is appropriate for Sasquatch to have his turkey too. None of us can figure out how he could be so numerate as to be able to use a ciphering system invented in 1901 or why he runs with the
Pequot Running Club but then the legend of Sasquatch or Bigfoot is enshrouded in mystery anyway and explanation is perhaps best left to future generations.
E. Packer Wilbur

Note: The Pequot Running Club Five Mile Thanksgiving Day Race in Southport, Connecticut, was inaugurated in 1978 and has now been run on 34 consecutive Thanksgiving Day mornings. More than 5,200 runners and walkers participated in the 2011 Race.
The Race proceeds go to local charitable organizations including The Wakeman Boys and Girls Club, The Laddie Lawrence Scholarship Fund at Staples High School, Westport EMS, The Domestic Violence Crisis Center, Fairfield Counseling Services, The Keystone Club (Fairfield), Fairfield Police Explorers, and The Weston High School Boosters.

Tuesday, November 17, 2015

At the "Narrows"

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At the "Narrows"
"Notice the large mound of sand along the shore to the right. A small steam engine with smoke working along the beach. The background shows Sasco Hill with familiar landmarks. This photograph was taken at the "Narrows". At one time the village gave consideration for building a bridge across the harbor at the "Narrows". Photograph is believed to have been taken by, or at the direction of, Richard Demarest Sr., who was associated with the golf course development project of O.G. Jennings." -Arthur Jennings
{Sasco Hill in the background, McKenzie's Point to the right.}
Many thanks to Arthur Jennings for sharing this very rare photograph and piece of Southport history.

Wednesday, November 11, 2015

Bulkley's Market Southport CT circa 1870

Special thanks to Arthur Jennings for sharing this very old advertisement
from the Southport Chronicle circa 1870.

Thursday, November 5, 2015

ROOMS with a VIEW "Home For The Holidays" Nov.13-15th


Southport Harbor in 1930's/1940's

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Southport Harbor circa 1930's/1940's
"Date of photo uncertain. I do know that in 1948 Atlantic 19 was owned by J.W.C. Bullard of PYC, and this is likely the correct answer. Atlantic #19 was called "Pampero"."
-Arthur Jennings
(Thanks to Arthur Jennings for sharing this photo from his collection).

Sasquanuag Association For Southport Improvement Annual Meeting Nov.8th

Sunday, October 4, 2015

Double Feature Performance at Horseshoe Cafe Monday Oct.5th

Horseshoe Cafe

Pequot Avenue - Southport Village

twitter: @HorseshoeCafeCT

At the Town Dock several decades ago

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At Ye Yacht Yard Town Dock, Southport, Connecticut. Photo reads: " In tidal basins and rivers, or where winter icing ruins small docks, the landing float is a necessity. Second hand ones in good condition are hard to come by, so it's unusally a case of knowing how to design and build one for your purpose."
Date unkown. Photo property and courtesy of Howard Burr Collection/Joe Rainis.

Southport Spooktacular Family Fun Day Sunday Oct.25th

Southport Spooktacular October 25th
Southport Village

On October 25th Join your Connecticut neighbors for a FREE 
#FamilyFunDaySunday filled with costume parading, face painting, pumpkin decorating and many other arts & crafts activities!

Children (and pets) of all ages will walk the charming historic shopping district trick-or-treating (for healthy snacks and toys) at local retailers as they make their way to the bounce house and live music - Please meet in front of Sammy's Pizza & Grill at 11AM if your child/family wants to walk in the parade.

There will also be a stroller decorating contest so pimp out your tots ride before you arrive!

Please be sure to park down side streets and the Southport train and Wakeman parking lots. Police will be directing traffic as we have had an overwhelming response already. Be sure not to block driveways. If your child wants to walk in the parade please arrive promptly at 11AM. The FUN continues until 3 PM! 

Southport Swans in formation on Saturday at Tide Mill

The Southport Swans at Tide Mill are growing up.
PHOTO: Gerard Bernacchia

Another early view of Southport Harbor circa 1880's

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Southport Harbor circa 1880's
Another early view of Southport Harbor at low tide looking north towards the Jelliff Block. Sasco Hill and the onion fields to the right. To the far right, the bow of a vessel can be seen at anchor. Circa 1880's. Special thanks to Arthur Jennings for this rare view of the past.
Photo: Arthur Jennings Collection

Trinity Parish Nursery School Fall Festival Sat. Oct.17th

Trinity Parish Nursery School Fall Festival Saturday Oct.17th 11am-2pm

Monday, September 28, 2015

Horseshoe Cafe Acoustic Open-Mic featuring Brian Dolzani Sept.28th

Blood Moon over Southport on Sunday evening

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Blood Moon over Southport on Sunday evening.

Photo: Judith Byman  9/27/15

Artists Call for Entries for Pequot Library's 18th Annual Art Show

Artists Call for Entries 18th Annual Art Show

Deadline October 3, 2015
Paintings, photography, works on paper, sculpture/construction/jewelry, mixed media.

Main Street and Harbor Road circa 1910

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Rare photograph of Main Street and (Water Street) which is now called Harbor Road.
From Arthur Jennings Collection. 

Pre-1920's Southport Harbor

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Sailing, Southport Harbor
Date circa 1910's. Sasco Hill in the background.
-Thanks again to Arthur Jennings for sharing this incredible rare photo.
From Arthur Jennings Collection.

Sunday, September 27, 2015

Into the sand

By Barry Wallace
The waters of Long Island Sound sparkled a deep sapphire blue. The sunlight spread across its surface and lit up the waves. Shadows shimmered, zig-zagged like a school of fish and disappeared into the edge of the water.
September was cleanup time at the beach, and the weather seemed to be doing the same -- scouring away the leftovers of summer and bringing in a cleaner, drier season. The beach was splashed with bright sunshine and swept clean with brisk freshening breezes.
We were raking again using the old wood-handled rakes with their broken and rusted metal tines. In the pecking order of our Irish-American family at the time we, the twins, "weren't worth much" when it came to work. Our older brother Kevin could already drive a nail straight and true and had the instincts of a born carpenter. He was paired with our Uncle Phil doing the more skilled jobs of fixing porches, mending screens, measuring and sawing.
Brian and I helped the women changing bedding, sweeping up sand, mopping floors, lugging junk and moving furniture. But even these things, especially the cleaning and scrubbing, were considered somewhat advanced for us. So we were handed the old rakes and told to clean the sand around the cottages, removing nails, broken glass and anything else that found its way into the sand during the summer season. The tenants spent most of their time in the front near the water. Things sometimes fell out of their pockets and bags into the netherworld of beach sand.
The yards were all sandy back in the 1950s. Only a few Pine Creekers (pronounced "Crickers") had planted lawns then, and these were considered by the rest of us to be unnecessary and pretentious.
Before the huge stone jetties were built by the town to protect the beach, the yards were fronted by simple wooden bulkheads that did little to hold back the flood-tides. If your cottage survived hurricane season, your front yard would be left with the smoothest, whitest beach sand in all of in Fairfield. Such fine grains could easily flow through an hourglass. As kids we enjoyed making hourglasses with our hands and watching the sands of time sift through our fingers.
For us raking sand wasn't just busy work. After you scraped the surface it was surprising how much could be found hidden in it. We discovered toy guns, nail clippers, keys, coffee cups, cigarette lighters, ladies' compacts and all kinds of silverware. The sand was a lot like the water. After you dropped something into its depths you might never be able to find it again. Just one careless move and it vanished before your eyes. The distraction of relaxation also played a part at the beach. People settling back into a snooze or a novel might realize only later that they had lost something in the sand.
My father was especially pleased when we turned up shards of glass. The green and brown pieces of broken soda and beer bottles were easy to find. The clear glass that you couldn't see in the sand could deeply slice your feet or hands. We wore thick gloves on this work detail. Rusty nails and screws popped up everywhere. So did weathered hammers, screw drivers and other items lost from the tool box. These were rescued and put back into service, never the quite the same but still useful for a while longer. Even if the items were completely rusted, my father would throw them into a box for possible later consideration. We were a thoroughly Catholic family, who took the idea of resurrection seriously.
Of course, being kids, what we really hoped for was buried treasure. We believed we would find diamonds or rubies that would make us rich. Each unearthed piece of costume jewelry was breathlessly brought to the adults for inspection. It was all worthless but we remained convinced that we had discovered the imperial crown jewels. The rings were probably from gumball machines or Cracker Jack boxes. I should have realized there were no dowagers renting our humble beach-side shacks. They were working people like us out for a couple of relaxing weeks in the summer at an affordable price. A little bit of heaven close to home.
Once we found a condom in the sand and showed it to my father. I naively thought it might be some kind of a balloon. After that incident I remember him saying we shouldn't pick up everything we found in the sand. There was a peculiar expression on his face that I couldn't read, but that look told me we had discovered something that couldn't be explained to us just then. Certainly none of our guests would ever engage in such behavior, but there was a steady stream of beach crashers moved by moonlight and cheap beer to romantic interludes in the sand. Sometimes at night soft sounds would emanate from the shoreline and into our open bedroom windows -- bird calls, bell buoys, muffled laughing and whispers. The beach was filled with magic, but that kind of magic was well beyond the understanding of two still innocent young boys.
Although we recognized our low status on the family totem pole, we knew our father wanted the job done and done right. He would come out and check every so often to make sure we were still raking and to tell us how important it was for us to stay with it. "You boys might think you get all the dirty little jobs, but they need to be done well, too. It's like that in a big Irish family. You can be forty before they think you're old enough to hammer a nail." He was referring to his aunts and uncles who were also at work at Pine Creek. Although he was our father, he was still a boy to them. I sensed that Dad was trying to tell us something about himself and the family that he deeply loved. He wanted us to know that we were one of them in ways we might not understand. The beach was our familial place where we worked together as a family and told family stories. It was where we sometimes awkwardly stepped on toes in the dance of the generations and the complex feelings that were our heritage and our curse. We knew we were loved even if they seemed to have little use for us; even if we were made to feel we were in the way; even if the words we spoke were never enough to express what needed to be said. I may have learned all I ever was to learn on those weekends long ago. Life is filled with repetitive hard work coupled with steady progress and understanding. If you learn anything at all, it is important not to blindly grasp at something you can't see -- like sharp glass and rusty nails. We can't always understand the people we love, and even their love can be hurtful in ways we can never imagine. Time is like an hourglass that runs out on all of us. The older you get the more quickly the sand slips through your fingers. Almost every face and voice I remember from the beach is gone now. All the aunts and uncles, all the beach characters, my remarkable grandmother, Mal, and the father I was never ready to say goodbye to. And you never do find any buried treasure.
So there we all are in the sand next to the sparkling sound under the wide blue skies of a September Saturday. We are working together in the brisk breeze that entwines our breath as it races across the flat expanses of the beach. We are touching each other's lives like the shadows jutting out from the cottages and spreading longer across the sand as the sun slips lower in the sky. What falls into the sand is irrevocably transformed or lost forever. And it is beautiful, piece by piece, because it is all a part of our lives. READ MORE:
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From Fairfield Citizen 9/23/09

Meet the Author: Kate Manning at Pequot Library Oct.4th

Meet the Author: Kate Manning

Sunday, October 4, 2015, 4pm - 6pm
Hear about a scandalous historical figure in her novel, "A Notorious Life." Free.

Launching a vessel at YYY in the 1930's

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Launching a vessel at YYY in the 1930's
Special thanks to Joe Rainis for providing this view into the past at Ye Yacht Yard.
Photo property and courtesy of Howard Burr Collection/Joe Rainis

Sasco Hill Road

Saturday, September 26, 2015

YYY on Friday

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YYY on Friday.

Thursday, September 24, 2015

Free Young Person's Concert at Pequot Library Sept.26th

Free Young Persons' Concert

Saturday, September 26, 2015, 2pm
Pequot Library
Southport, CT
The Wand'ring Minstrels from the NY Gilbert & Sullivan Players perform kid-centric musicals.

Late 1960's early 1970's Ye Yacht Yard West Docks

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Ye Yacht Yard West Docks
"Photo circa late 1960's, or early 1970's. Looks like a Blue J on a trailer far left."
From Arthur Jennings Collection

Southport Spooktacular Oct.25th Southport Village

Storm Tide early 1950's Southport Harbor

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Storm Tide early 1950's Southport Harbor
Southport, Connecticut
"The gangway is the south float at YYY and was, brand new circa 1952 or 1953. Frank Romano took the photo from Harbor Road over the page wire fence that butts up to the corner of YYY. The shed across the harbor is the tennis pavilion of the Country Club which is still there today. Frank took the photo from Harbor Road over the page wire fence that butts up to the corner of YYY. Frank was a commercial photographer who worked for various area papers and for the paper in Fairfield. A very nice gentleman and a good photographer." -Arthur Jennings

Walin & Wolff Southport Village - Spend More/Save More 9/24-9/27th

Visit the newest store location on Pequot Avenue in Southport Village

28th Annual Bigelow Tea Community Challenge Sept.27th

Wednesday, September 23, 2015

Friday, September 18, 2015

Southport on Thursday

CASUAL WATER 33.5 meter Feadship 

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Southport on Thursday.

Monday, September 14, 2015

Rose Hill - Southport Village

Southport 1908

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Special thanks to Arthur Jennings for sharing this advertisement from 1908.

Rare photo showing the area east of the Lower Wharf in 1929

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Sasco Hill, Sasco Beach, and McKenzie's Point in the background.
"This photo is circa 1929 showing the area east of the Lower Wharf. Note the mooring hoist to the left and the vintage cars to the lower right and across the harbor along the beach. (There is an object in the center of the photo which appears to be along the breakwater. I have put a loupe to the image and cannot be certain what it is. At times I see a sail boat with a mast. Other times I see what appears to be a float plane, with tail to the left and prop to the right. Whatever is happening, there are a few spectators with the number of cars in the photo)."
"The property on which the photo was taken belonged to my father and his family. The original parcel was about 4 acres and went back to Willow Street. It also included an undetermined amount of what is now YYY, and included what is now 1000 Harbor Road, the house that one time had the tower. On the hill was mounted cannon during the war of 1812 to protect the entrance of the harbor. My dad build his home on the hill in the 1920's. At that time the land was used as an apple orchard and grazing land for cattle." -Arthur Jennings

Many thanks to Arthur Jennings, for sharing this rare image.