Framingham Legends & Lore (12 page)

The 1793 case was traced to a single individual, David Butler of Peterborough, New Hampshire. He was brought to Framingham by Abijah Parmenter, to whose wife Butler was related, in order to be treated for “dropsy” by Dr. Kittredge. After no improvement was seen, another doctor was sent for, who “scarified him, and drew away a considerable quantity of water.” Two weeks after this “treatment,” Butler came down with smallpox. Eventually seventeen people were afflicted, including Revolutionary War veteran Samuel Angier, whose remote Pleasant Street home was designated as a “pest house” by town officials in an attempt to quarantine the disease. In all, six people died, including Cyrus Woolson, who had served in the Revolution with Angier. The six victims were buried in a common grave near the home, far removed from the center of town, where they lay undisturbed for almost two hundred years. (Interestingly, a seventh person was buried alongside them—Nancy Coolidge, who had committed suicide, and therefore presumably could not have been buried in the consecrated ground of a normal graveyard.)

In 1964, a local developer announced plans to build a subdivision on the old Thompson pasture where the graves were known to be located. Town Veterans Benefits officer John Murtaugh then enlisted the help of public works employee Alec Turner in finding the graves. Two stone markers commemorating the war service of Woolson and Angier were easily found, but these stones did not mark the actual burial site.

After carefully scraping away thin layers of earth in the vicinity of the markers, the men began their search. In the end, they were able to find only two sets of remains. The bodies were reinterred in the Soldiers' Lot at Edgell Grove Cemetery, although there was no way to determine whether they were actually the remains of the two soldiers.

T
HE
E
DGELL
G
ROVE
C
EMETERY

Over the years, a number of other graveyards came into use in Framingham. The Old South Burying Ground was opened in 1824, Edwards Cemetery in Saxonville in 1829, St. George's Cemetery (the first Catholic cemetery in town) in 1860 and St. Tarcisius in 1918, among others. Yet only one rises to historical significance based on its design and not only on the identities of the individuals buried there—the Edgell Grove Cemetery.

In the nineteenth century, burial grounds began to be known by the more comforting term “cemetery,” from the Greek meaning “sleeping place.” Mount Auburn Cemetery in Cambridge, Massachusetts, laid out in 1831, was the country's first “garden” cemetery. Garden cemeteries were beautifully landscaped with park-like features such as ponds and ornamental trees, providing an Eden-like final resting place for the dead and a tranquil, inspirational spot for the living. In 1848, Framingham opened its own version of the garden cemetery at Edgell Grove. The cemetery was consecrated on October 13 of that year, an occasion marked by bands, the officiation of four ministers—Birdsey G. Northrup (Edwards Congregational Church in Saxonville), Increase N. Tarbox (Hollis Evangelical Society, now the Plymouth Church, Congregationalist), Chester Field (Methodist) and Jonathan Aldrich (Baptist)—all Protestants. There was also the singing of a special hymn written for the event by Elizabeth (Willard) Barry, the wife of William Barry, the town's former minister and author of the town history published in 1847.

The land had been procured from Colonel Moses Edgell, grandson of Simon Edgell, who had led a company of Minutemen to the Battle of Lexington and Concord. Moses Edgell, a founder of the Framingham Bank, the first in town in 1833, and later the Framingham Savings Bank in 1846, would later also provide funding for the Edgell Memorial Library at Framingham Centre. Another member of the original committee was Warren Nixon, the skilled draughtsman, surveyor and “runaway son” of Thomas Nixon. Both Edgell and Warren Nixon were buried here, along with the members of most of Framingham's established families for the next one hundred years and beyond.

Edgell Grove is normally the serene and beautiful environment envisioned by its planners, but it became a scene of chaos and devastation when the hurricane of 1938 toppled dozens of trees on its grounds. That storm was but the most destructive of many to hit Framingham over the years.

T
HE
“W
HIRLWIND
”
OF
1741

September 22, 1741, was the first recorded instance of a tornado striking Framingham. According to the
Boston Weekly News-Letter
, “a very severe Wind (or Whirlwind) hapned [
sic
] there, with Thunder, Lightning and Rain, the like not known in that Part of the Country; it took a large Piece of Timber of 40 Feet in length, and 13 Inches square lying on the upper side of a Bridge…and carried it some Distance…; and passing along to an Orchard it tore down 25 Apple Trees, and took off the Roof of a Barn, and broke down a great deal of the Fence” before proceeding to Sudbury.

T
HE
“H
URRICANE
”
OF
1787

On August 15, 1787, Middlesex County was hit by a storm of enormous strength and destructive power. While contemporary headlines speak of the “hurricane” that struck that day, the storm was most likely an unusually large and sustained tornado that developed over Hartford, Connecticut, before heading north and leaving ruined homes and fields in its wake.

The tornado hit Framingham in the late afternoon, carving an eight-mile path of destruction in the northern part of town and destroying or severely damaging orchards, crops, fences, large trees, stone walls, houses and barns. The incredible power of the tornado is evidenced in the damage done to the home of two elderly sisters named Shattuck. After tearing the roof off the neighboring Fairbanks home, the powerful winds destroyed the home of the Shattucks, lifting Widow Shattuck and her sister out of the house and carrying them several hundred feet away, where they sustained serious injuries. Two children sleeping in the same home when the storm struck were found over three miles away, still slumbering peacefully on the featherbed that carried them on the wind. Witnesses also reported seeing a hay cart, complete with its team of oxen, load of hay and young driver, lifted into the air and carried over one hundred feet away before crashing to the ground. The “hurricane” plowed through several other towns before finally dissipating near Rochester, New Hampshire.

T
HE
“G
REAT
B
LOW
”
OF
1815

The “Great Blow” of September 23, 1815, is described in detail by Josiah Temple in his 1887 history of the town. The hurricane caused great damage not far from the Temple home and, although he was barely six months old at the time, the event was most certainly recorded and retold at Temple family gatherings for years to come. Large white pines several feet in diameter were snapped off and torn from the ground by the roots in a one-mile path taken by the storm. The storm caused considerable damage from Providence to New Hampshire. Steeples across New England were blown over and Boston's waterfront was especially hard hit. The “Great Blow” would soon fade from memory, and no other hurricanes would hit the town for over 120 years.

T
HE
G
REAT
N
ORTHEAST
H
URRICANE
OF
1938

In September 1938, Framingham experienced a storm of such ferocity that even the reserved Reverend Swift would have been compelled to write a few sentences about it in his journal had he witnessed it. The Great Northeast Hurricane of 1938 was the most powerful and destructive storm to hit New England in modern history. Over 680 people were killed, and property damage reached $400 million. Although weather forecasting technology had advanced tremendously since the “Great Blow” of 1815, Framingham residents were no better prepared for this storm than their eighteenth- and nineteenth-century counterparts would have been. Some weather historians cite the incredible speed of the hurricane after passing North Carolina as a factor in the lack of preparedness. Others blame the U.S. Weather Bureau, which predicted the storm would head out to sea. Whatever the cause, the citizens of Framingham were taken by surprise when the onslaught began in the late afternoon of September 21.

Throughout the night, eighty-seven-mile-per-hour winds tore up the town. Shortly after the storm began, a 230-foot radio antenna operated by the State Police was blown over. In Saxonville, the steeple of the Methodist church and the smokestack of the Roxbury Carpet Company were toppled. The Framingham Normal School's May Hall lost its distinctive pitched roof and turrets, now seen only in old photos and on the town seal. The statue of the Civil War soldier that stands in front of the Edgell Memorial Library was knocked off its pedestal when a large maple tree fell on it. Roofs and windows of houses, churches and businesses were smashed and destroyed in large numbers. Miraculously, only fourteen storm-related injuries were reported at Framingham Union Hospital, none of them serious.

It was the tree population in town that suffered the worst damage. A few days after the storm, the Public Works Department estimated that 4,500 trees had been felled in cemeteries, parks and along highways in Framingham. The number of trees lost on private property added to that total, with over 125,000,000 trees knocked down across the state. For the next few weeks, the sounds of axes and saws were heard in every neighborhood in town as the cleanup progressed. Firewood from the downed trees was later distributed to needy families by the Board of Public Welfare. Just one week after the storm, the
Framingham News
reported that things were getting back to normal with little evidence left that a hurricane had ever struck. But those who lived through this “Big Blow” would never forget its effects, and the loss of so many trees that had stood for decades would alter the town's landscape forever.

O
THER
N
OTABLE
S
TORMS OF THE
T
WENTIETH
C
ENTURY

Several other storms of note struck Framingham in the twentieth century. An ice storm in 1921 caused extensive destruction but created a surreal, almost dream-like landscape in the town. Hurricane Carol in August 1954 caused damage similar to the 1938 storm, but on a much smaller scale. Once again, roads flooded, storefronts and signs were smashed and hundreds of trees were felled, causing power outages. Hurricane Diane struck a year later, dumping a record twelve inches of rain on Framingham, flooding roads and homes in low-lying areas as well as along the Sudbury River and washing out several bridges. The Blizzard of 1978, a strong nor'easter, struck so swiftly that February that it led to the memorable image of hundreds if not thousands of abandoned cars buried in snow on Route 128. Locally, it brought traffic on the Massachusetts Turnpike and Route 9 to a halt for days, as Framingham was virtually shut down along with the rest of eastern Massachusetts.

Flooding on Central Street after Hurricane Diane, 1955.

Flooding on Winter Street after Hurricane Diane, 1955.

An early and accurate forecast does not always guarantee an appropriate and well-thought-out response, as evidenced by the events of December 13, 2007. The first flakes came down that day almost to the minute predicted by television forecasters, with a moderate eight inches falling between 2:00 and 8:00 p.m. School officials in Framingham and surrounding towns dismissed students and staff early to get a jump on the snow and the thousands of commuters who regularly travel the town's roads and highways. Unfortunately, local businesses and state officials had the same idea, releasing workers at the same time. Within minutes, Framingham's main roads became hopelessly gridlocked, preventing plows from clearing them. A two-minute drive from the south side of town to the north took over two hours, and commuters traveling to nearby towns arrived home long after dark, having spent up to five or six hours in their cars as the snow fell.