Of Stagecoaches, Sharpies and Oyster Poles

When Joe Taylor brought his remarkable collection of slides to the library, Old Fair Haven became as real in that room as the street outside. Pictured: an oyster boat, circa 1880.

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Marty Wolczak, who lives on Rosewood Street in Fair Haven Heights, had heard from old-timers in the neighborhood that her street of attractive small houses had mostly been built right after World War Two, part of the housing boom for returning GIs.

“I’d also heard that, long before, there had been a pig farm up there,” she said, on Saturday afternoon, in the comfortable community room of the Ives-Main Library on Grand Avenue in Fair Haven. ​“But is it true? I haven’t seen any pigs wandering about, but I’d still like to know.” As she talked with a reporter, she was waiting for the beginning of Joseph Taylor’s slide show of Fair Haven history. Perhaps Taylor, well known in the community for his encyclopedic knowledge of Fair Haven visual history, would have the answer. And if not Taylor, then the brain trust of New Haven history buffs, who followed Taylor’s programs, which he has increasingly been giving at libraries and other venues over the past several years.

“Joe’s collection,” said Robert Grzywacz, from his primo seat in the front row, ​“is without doubt the best collection of images of the city that we have outside of the public institutions.” Grzywacz ought to know. He’s chairman of the New Haven Historical District Commission and vice president of the New Haven Preservation Trust. ​“For people like us, who are fascinated with images of the city, it’s wonderful to be able to see the images that Joe has put together.”

The audience was not to be disappointed. Taylor, a 25-year plus-employee in the biology department at Yale, has lovingly developed his avocation into a collection of 4,000 postcards of New Haven, which he began assembling in 1987 and continually adds to through both purchases on eBay as well as scrounging about in shops and attics. He also has an extensive collection of stamps (he can tell you the precise date he began that collection, April 15, 1964), maps, advertisements, and bills of sale of New Haven businesses. From these, he has selected and entered some 1800 images thus far in a database scanned into a laptop commuter; now he can, and does, tailor these shows for the community in which he speaks. Although he admits to loving all of New Haven, Fair Haven is by far his favorite digs, and among his favorite views are those of Grand Avenue, with its bustling shops, trolleys, and schools, circa 1905 to 1915.

“It’s not just collecting,” Taylor said, as he began the show with an 1862 map of Fair Haven, ​“it’s the hunt, the detective work of identifying an image. You sometimes need to scan one image in back of another, using a building or location you already know to identify one you don’t. I don’t like to give up.

“Here, for example, you see the railroad bridge cutting across Fair Haven. That finally explained to me why so many of the property lines in the area are at an angle: the path of the railroad line dictated the shape of the property.”

As the lights were lowered, by Betsy Goldberg (in photo with Taylor), the devoted branch librarian who had arranged the program, along with promotional help from Lee Cruz (senior philanthropic officer with the Greater New Haven Community Foundation), the images (mostly black and white, but some colored lithographs as well) came into view. Old Fair Haven became as real in that room as the street outside:

Three men in a a sharpie, the classic early New Haven fishing boat, moored at a bulkhead in front of the Quinnipiac Brewing Company, on the east shore, circa 1885.

“Look closely,” Taylor says. ​“In the background there, I thought there were a lot of scratches in the photo. But when I studied it, I found that those lines — can you see them? — dozens and dozens of them were really the oyster poles that dotted the river.” Here next were several bustling turn-of-the century views of the Grand Avenue Bridge, which, originally built of wood in 1787, was transformed into steel in 1898. ​“Show those to Joel Schiavone,” offered Bob Grzywacz, referring to the builder who is developing a large site by the Grand Avenue Bridge. ​“Tell him two commissioners from the New Haven District Historical Commission are here and endorse his looking at these views.” In fact, Taylor’s presentation took more the form of a warm and lively community seminar of local history aficionados, with as many questions from Taylor as to him from an admiring audience.. ​“Can anybody tell me when the last trolley line was laid in New Haven?” ​“1916.” ​“Right. Now in this picture of the Grand Avenue Bridge, look, instead of trolley lines, we have omnibuses. Omnibuses are what they called those large stage coaches pulled by four to six horses.” ​“What’s the date of the picture and what are they doing in the picture?” ​“I don’t know,” answered Taylor. ​“I think they’re posing for the photograph, but does anyone have any idea? I could use some help” Betsy Goldberg and Lee Cruz consulted several books nearby and identified the last omnibuses as being in service in 1858. Well, that was something. Taylor put up another image, a sedate horse and buggy moving down East Pearl Street past where the old post office used to be. ​“I remember that,” said another audience member —- the old post office, that is. Not the horse. ​“Anyone know the license plate on that horse?” ​“Want to see the inside of candy store?” And then there it was, in Taylor’s next image: A.L. Dupuis’s candy and ice cream shop, on East Grand and Quinnipiac, around 1910. Beautiful glass cases everywhere.
​“Now here’s one with a problem,” Taylor said, as he moved his lanky frame to face the audience. ​“In this image you see here the first house built on the east side of Pearl Street. We know it’s the year 1875, because the mansard roof had not been put on yet. But the question is here below, on the river’s edge, there’s a boat with a paddle wheel. But what is the boat doing there, docked in front of the coal shed? Passenger ships, that is paddle wheelers, don’t take on coal here.” ​“Right, they’d take stop for coal at a coal station at Long Wharf.” ​“Maybe it’s not a coal station.” ​“But I have another image that says, written right on back of it, this is a coal station, in 1868.” ​“Well maybe it’s misidentified. Look, Joe. The shed has a roof. Coal, which is combustible in contained places, usually would be kept more out in the open.” And so it went: The Mary Wade Home on Clinton Avenue just after it was built. The Strong School on Jan 27, 1914, the day the original wooden building burned down, and here now was another series of poignant images of all the school children lined up at the ceremony laying the cornerstone for the rebuilt brick school that stands today. ​“We could stay here all day looking at these pictures,” someone said. ​“One more,” said Taylor, ​“my favorite of the afternoon.” He then showed a slide of a beautiful winter scene. A fence running in a gentle curve gradually rises up a graceful hill. ​“Any guesses?” When there were none, he said, ​“This is Hemingway Pond.” ​“Right, right,” mused Cruz. ​“Exactly,” said Gryzwacz. ​“Hemingway and Quinnipiac. There were last of ponds there, in the 1850s. Where they used to cut blocks of ice.” ​“And that hill?” Taylor said triumphantly. ​“That,” he said, ​“right behind there, on the rise, is where Bella Vista now stands.” Which explains, of course, that it had a beautiful view indeed. Taylor, who also conducts walking tours, hopes to do many more of these presentations, including several designed for senior communities, just like Bella Vista. ​“And,” asked Mary Wolczak, ​“what about that pig farm on Russell Street?” Remarkably, the room fell silent. She had stumped the braintrust. But Joseph Taylor is certainly working on it, and all bets are that somehow, remarkably, he will find an image of that farm, if it existed —- the 4,001st.

Note: Taylor is available to do presentations of his old New Haven slides. E‑mail him here.)