Summer of 1925

So far, the summer of 2012 has been filled with long hours sewing, painting, scrubbing, and lifting. This I couldn't say was the same for my grandmother and her brother during the summer of 1925. While going through some of the family photos I had on my laptop, I came across dozens of beach shots in front of summer cottages from places like Smuggler's Notch, Joe's Pond, and Swift's Beach. From May to August it seems Pauline and Bud Ramsdell visited all the resort towns of New England. I wish I could just get a moment to hop on the bus to Jacob Riis for a day! In the mean time I'll just enjoy the beach sand through the photos of my ancestors. 

The Ramsdell Home

The Ramsdell home, 342 Convent Ave. Harlem, New York City

I've become very interested in the history of architecture in New York City. Rather, the history of the destruction of architecture in New York City. My interest really started to peak when talks of created new historical districts in Bed Stuy started to surface. But even before the Bed Stuy talks, I always spent my morning walks to work looking at the many historic homes here in brownstone Brooklyn looking at what is missing. Looking at where vinyl siding has been used to cover once gorgeous cornices, when grand brownstone stoops have been replaced with ground floor entrances, and where "modern" apartment buildings have been squeezed between 1900's structures. I pass through Bed Stuy, Clinton Hill, Fort Greene, Wallabout, and the Navy Yard always thinking how terrible it is to see such destruction.  It's unfortunate but I must accept that it's a part of living in a constantly evolving city.  A once wealthy neighborhood is not always bound to its affluent roots, and with poverty comes destruction and an interest in self preservation rather than historic preservation.

My interest has focused mostly on the neighborhoods that I live and work in, but the situation is wide spread. As one can see in the case of the Ramsdell home. The picture above was found among the many family photographs and documents from my mother's side of the family. I've spent many hours documenting the many items in an effort to create a comprehensive family tree dating back to the Mayflower. On the back of the above images states: Ramsdell Home Convent Ave 342 NYC. The address, written in a barely legible cursive, is that of a Harlem residence belonging to my mother's great uncle Edwin Ramsdell and his family. Edwin was a doctor and his brother Homer, a lawyer, was my mothers's grandfather. 

Young brothers, Homer Ramsdell (left) and Edwin Ramsdell

Upon finding this photo, which must date from sometime in the early 1900's, I grew excited about visiting the former home of my ancestors. I imagined comparing the photography to the actual structure and marveling at the tangibility of history. The excitement of feeling connected to my past.

However, my excitement was quickly squashed by a quick google map search which resulted in the images found below. A driveway, a brick addition, and a neighboring home is all that is reminiscent of the photo of the Ramsdell home. One can see in the picture of the neighboring house the stone pyramid capped wall that is also present in the old photo. I try to imagine what it would have looked like. Comparing the neighboring house to the photo. Flipping it in my mind. Adding back the brick details that have been covered over. As I work so hard to create something that isn't there, I wonder, is an empty driveway really better? Are all structures (our physical histories) at risk of becoming pavement? The answer, is sadly yes. 

Modern day street view of approximate address, 342 Convent Ave. and neighboring property, via Google Maps.

The Zoology Student

Here are three pictures of Pauline Alden Ramsdell, my mother's mother. She's in the Swarthmore College laboratory examining tissue samples. She studied zoology at the Pennsylvania school and graduated in 1939. Her Senior year book states

"She is fond of water colors and Japanese prints, and wears purple continually. Her cheeks, which are continually that rosy color, add to the impression that Polly looks like a Botticellian edition of Bette Davis." The book also notes that she avoided live animal directions, played bridge, and enjoyed frequent trips to New York City.