Scenes from Mathews Court House

The photos above are a left to right progression of buildings on Church Street in Mathews Court House directly across from the historic court green.  I took these one recent Saturday morning, before the streets became busy with weekenders tending to their shopping needs or locals going to and from whatever it is we do on a Saturday.

Tomorrow afternoon I intend to be planted somewhere in the vicinity of the Court House capturing pictures of the Homecoming parade.  Daughter will ride on the cross country team's float.

Speaking of Homecoming, Middle Sister returns to Mathews next weekend for her xxth (insert a double-digit number here that we won't reference, because whatever big number that is just means I've been out of high school all the longer since I'm older, so let's just pretend we're all still in high school and ignore the numbers.  Thank you.) reunion, which probably could have coincided with this weekend's Homecoming but for whatever reason didn't.

Anyway, whatever you're doing this weekend, enjoy.

The Courthouse

Over the weekend I went to the courthouse to take some street photos for the book I'm working on.  I thought Sunday afternoon would be ideal, since the sun was bright and people would be at home doing whatever people do at home on Sunday afternoons. Downtown Mathews is usually desolate on Sunday afternoons.

So naturally the one time I needed a perfect photo of the public library (above), which used to be Farmers Bank of Mathews, there were several cars parked out front. And all of a sudden I noticed all the telephone poles and wires. Great big, ugly utility wires. This was not good.

Feeling a little frustrated but not yet defeated, I walked around the corner for a shot of Southwind (below), which at one time was a general store. The lighting was perfect! But once again a car was in the way just enough to muck up my picture.

I might still use this one, but, hello?  Wish the car weren't there.

All this time, whenever I contemplated the necessary tasks for the book (gathering old photographs, taking photos of the exact same scenes, and writing a paragraph for each pair of pictures--all 80 pairs), I always assumed that taking the current photographs was going to be the easiest part of the job. I take pictures around here all the time, it's a snap! To me the hard part was all the rest.

What I'm discovering--less than a week before my cover photographs are due and about two months before the entire book is due--is how much I underestimated the difficulty of taking a decent "now" shot of various buildings in the courthouse, thanks mostly to my need to take these pictures when there are no cars or pedestrians around.

(Oh, and also?  There's heavy construction going on at Hyco Corner and Ward's Corner making any "now" photos at those locations unsightly.  One scene requires me to take a shot of the sanitation plant; the "then" shot, before the plant, is priceless so I have to use that photo.  Is there any way to take a good picture of a sanitation plant? Also, did you know that there is no proper angle for a good shot of Hardees which is where a very cute and very photogenic Texaco station once stood? Honestly the courthouse area was far more charming back in the 1930s and '40s than it is today.)

This sudden realization caused a wave of panic to sweep over me, and beads of sweat formed on my forehead even though it was slightly chilly this particular day. 

(A similar wave of panic caused me to bolt upright in bed the other night at exactly 2:00 a.m. Hormones may be playing some role in all this sweating and all, but the book related stress isn't helping matters one bit.)

A couple of shots must be taken from the middle of the road to match the angle of the old photographs which shouldn't be a big deal early in the morning or on Sunday.

Except it actually is, at least when I've made such attempts.

The shot below is awful, plain and simple.  I will need to go back when the light is better and there are no cars coming at me.

So, after spending about an hour wandering around taking terrible pictures, I got pissed off became frustrated and spun out of there on two wheels...

I'm pretty sure my seventh grader could take a better shot. More utility wires anyone?

...and drove directly to Aaron's Beach, where absolutely no work was done on The Book Which Will Never Be Completed.

Ah.  Now all is right with the world.

The End.


p.s. I went back last night after 7:00 p.m. and had better luck, but still, this is going to be a very long, very difficult couple of months.

Piecing Together the Past

Outbuilding Near Ocean Products, November 2010

Yesterday I discovered another treasure trove of local information down at the Clerk's office at the Court House.

After I showed up dragging a laptop, a bag of file folders, a mini-backpack that serves as my pocketbook, and a partridge in a pear tree the bags under my eyes from not enough sunlight or sleep, my initial conversation with the employees there went like this:

CBW, to the two nice ladies sitting near the front desk:  "Hi, my name is CBW and I must be half crazy because I agreed to do a book on the history of Mathews and need some help."

Nice Ladies:  (Insert sounds of crickets chirping here as they stared blankly and blinked once or twice.   I don't think they're used to people admitting they're crazy, at least not where they work.)

CBW, filling in the awkward silence:  "Yeah, well, anyway, a lot of the book will revolve around the Court House area. I'll use old photos from various Court House scenes, match them with current photos I'll take of the exact same scenes, and then for each pair I have to write a paragraph about the significance of the location."

Really Nice Lady and I swear I am not making this up :  "You really must be crazy."

CBW:  "I know.  Anyway.  Let's take Foster's Department Store as an example."

Nice Ladies:  (**Crickets.**  They didn't know where Foster's Department Store was because technically it's no longer called Foster's Department Store, and they aren't from Mathews.)

CBW:  "You know, the store across from Richardson's.  So it was Foster's Department Store and through some research I know that before the fire in the 1920s there was an old hotel near that property.  What I'm curious to know is if there is any resource here that could tell me, for any given piece of property, who owned it and what establishment may have existed on it through the years, as far back as I can possibly go."

Nice Lady, who knew this really wasn't possible but didn't want to potentially disappoint someone who has just self-declared as crazy:  "Well, some of that is possible. Eugene will probably be able to help. Eugene, are you there? Eugene?"

Mr. Eugene came out and I gave him the overview but also suggested that Mr. Eugene himself, with ties to Callis Wharf on Gwynn's Island, might know some of the history of the Court House.  He then went on to say that he probably knew about as much as my husband.

Since I am not married and haven't been for some time, it was obvious that Mr. Eugene thought I was Chesapeake Bay Mother.  Instead of looking 46, I and my baggy eyes must have looked 69 yesterday.  Great!

After we took care of that little bit of confusion, Mr. Eugene and the Very Nice Lady carefully explained what I needed to do to piece together what is available at their office to determine property ownership. It's actually quite fun and involves some sleuthing but it isn't a swift process and nothing guarantees you'll find what you're looking for.   Researching three properties took me three and a half hours, and I never did find anything about that old hotel.

After I left, I aged another 10 years at the realization of how much work is ahead of me in my "spare time" headed to the library and spent another 2 hours upstairs in the genealogy room, which also houses some excellent local history and record books.

In conclusion, here are some of the things I learned after my day of research:

* The Clerk's office maintains a wealth of information that is easy to access, albeit time consuming.
* The employees there are wonderfully patient and very helpful.
* Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes have not purchased any property in Mathews.
* The room upstairs at the library, which has 2 or 3 huge books dedicated to the Sibley family alone, is a gold mine of local history and information.
* If CBW didn't already have a paying job and two children to parent, she might be able to make her book deadline.
* Since CBW thankfully does have a job and children, she's so worried about making her deadline and juggling all her regular responsibilities that she walks around looking 69 years old while her mother looks 46.
* I really, really, want to escape it all and hop on the next available plane to Bora Bora.

Who wants to come along? What would you run away from if you could?

Wandering Wednesday: The Court House Edition

Today's wandering takes us to the court house, also called the village by those of us who aren't from here.  Those who are from here would simply say, "I"m going up the road to the store" which implies the court house but never the village.  Just wanted to make that distinction.

Bridging the language gap can be burdensome, but someone's got to do it.

Above is Fosters Department Store, or at least it used to be back in my day. It's changed hands several times since then and so help me there is now a sign referencing one Mathews Film Society that appears to have taken up residence.

I never thought I'd live to see the day. What does a film society do? Is popcorn involved? Raisinettes? Cinema as an Art Form was one of my best classes in college, and I can analyze color and lighting and scenes as well as anyone as long as wine popcorn is involved.

Below is the strip that includes Fleets, that little brick building with green awnings on the corner. Fleets was a very straight forward, uncomplicated restaurant that had a teeny, tiny little bar tucked away in the corner between the restrooms and the kitchen.

You see, you could drink in Mathews, but nobody was supposed to know about it.  So to keep those drinkers confined and entertained in that tiny 2x4 drinking area, they decided to put up a dart board, because nothing says epicurean adventure like having to dodge darts hurled by people who have been drinking since 1972 noon.

Still, I liked Fleets just fine. And it will always be Fleets no matter what Nom du Jour beckons from the sign outside.

Above is the public library, where I spend a good hour three or four hours each week doing research. If you ever drive by on a Thursday or Friday and see a green Saturn parked out front, go up to the Chesapeake Room and look for the one and only person in there (other than the nice folks who help the unemployed find jobs which CBW wants to do when she retires which will be in approximately the year 3056). If her eyes are bloodshot and she looks stressed you can rest assured she is she's wondering how in the world she's going to locate enough old photographs for the project she's working on.

Or, she's wondering what's for dinner. Either/or.

 This building used to be the Farmers Bank of Mathews, where I had my very first bank account. Before moving here, the library was located in the building where the sheriff's office was before the new court offices opened up on the site of the old Lee Jackson Elementary School.

Please try to control your excitement at these mind-numbing fascinating facts, and thank you for pretending to be awake.

For my one local reader, do you remember when the court house (aka the village, aka our commercial district) shut down half a day on Wednesdays and all day on Sundays?  And there was no such thing as Walmutant.  Pretty much if you didn't have it  you just did without until things opened back up the next day.

For anyone else, how would you describe the downtown or village area where you grew up? And have you ever heard of a commercial area referred to as a court house?  This isn't unique to Mathews, but it may well be unique to this region.  There's Gloucester Court House, King and Queen Court House, etc., but I'm not sure how many others.  I'm just curious.

Last but not least, the MHS cross country team runs this evening at Beaverdam in Gloucester.

Falling Down

This is a shot of the intersection of Main Street and Church Street in Mathews Court House. That tannish/yellowish building on the right is the doctor's office referenced below by Chesapeake Bay Mother, who has written yet another tale.

Chesapeake Bay Mother says:

" Don't give a person teetering on the brink of senility too much to do in one day, or they will prove themselves faulty.

A case in point: Wednesday, the week after returning from Exhausting OBX (Outer Banks) Vacation, I had two appointments and was on possible standby for baby sitting. I like plenty of nothing, and nothing is plenty for me, to paraphrase a really good Broadway tune.

The first was a doctor's 8:45 a.m. physical, and I evidently passed. Leaving and crossing the street in front of the doctor's office, I found Mathews' only pothole, which was small enough to escape notice but deep enough to hide a small goat. Before I knew what was happening, my whole body was rushing to the ground--head first in the middle of Church Street. Everything in my purse was scattering in the road--pills, glasses, keys, etc.

A bus loaded with senior citizens and driven by a gray-haired gentleman was bearing down on the scene and me, with feet still in the air, seeming to have the hang time of a Michael Jordan jump shot. I fought gravity, hurried to my feet, grabbed my possessions, waved to the bus, smiled and mouthed, "I"m OK," in answer to the bus driver's obvious question. I'll never forget the look of wonder on his face as I thanked God I had worn pants that day. "Shake it off, Chesapeake Bay Mother," I said to myself.

Back home, I frost a birthday cake I baked for teenage grandson, and head out to dentist for an estimate on teeth, which broke apart on exhausting vacation. I am delighted to find out I need a filling and a cap, all of which will have to be paid out of my savings because insurance doesn't cover it. It will be more expensive than anything I've bought for myself in many moons.

I buy grandson a card and come home to make ice cream for his dinner party. By party time, I realize my left foot has somehow paid a price for the morning's tumble. I limp to the party. Chesapeake Bay Woman says it is fear hormone * that dulls pain on impact only to reappear later. Fear it was.

On the bright side, I fell in a fortuitous area--right outside the doctor's office, just up from a local church, and around the corner from the funeral parlor.

Find me a better spot to be flattened like a flounder under the wheels of a busload of seniors on a Wal-Mart quest.** I dare ya.

(CBW Note that cannot wait to be footnoted with a *: That "I dare ya" was added by CBW. I felt it needed to go there. I'm not trying to high jack this post or anything. I don't feel compelled to add my two cents' worth all the time. And I do not have control issues. Really. Now back to my mother's last sentence.)

Chesapeake Bay Grandson is an angel. It's been a full day.


-Chesapeake Bay Mother---------------------------------

*CBW Note: I don't recollect calling it a fear hormone. I said that when you have an accident, your body sends stuff, like adrenaline and other junk, coursing through your veins so that you can handle the situation. "Other junk" is a technical term and "fear hormone" is just not quite the correct terminology. Because I'm nothing if not factual, exact and correct with my details.

**CBW Note #2: This is a "note to self" to contact the driver of that senior citizen bus and get their number so I can arrange to have them take Chesapeake Bay Mother to her next doctor's appointment. Maybe then we can avoid Death by Pothole Big Enough to Hide a Small Goat. And perhaps a little embarrassment.