The Wellfleet Historical Society, a venerable artifact itself, has new, enlarged space on Main Street and a new burst of energy and vision. The new slogans are “taking history to the streets” and “not just objects”–the old stuff that has been collecting dust for decades–”but stories.”
“Stories” sounds good, but perhaps easier said than done.
You might think it easy to keep track of the history of just one little town . But it’s not–it might in fact be impossible. Town was settled about 350 years ago, but even the relatively recent history that to many of us of a certain age (and seems like the whole town is of a certain age) is our time in this town is becoming elusive.
Recently there was a reception to mark the changing ownership (after 40 years) of the landmark Inn at Duck Creek. It’s the kind of p lace you’d have to call “storied” and indeed many of those present in this historical moment had stories of waitressing or bartending or performing music or falling in love back in the day. But the details of those stories are getting a little vague. (When was that? Who was that? What exactly?) There’s a piece of history somebody better write down quick.
We are fortunate for the Judy Stetson history of our town published (by the Society) on the bicentennial in 1963 and updated in 2004 by Seth Rolbein. There are also the many old photos in Ruth Rickmers’ series of “Wellfleet Remembered” pamphlets. But they went out of p rint when she died, some time ago. ( I recently mentioned the series to a small group of residents and drew a blank. We’re in danger of losing track not only of the history in those pamphlets, but of that feisty local historian!)
There’s what we know; but also so much that we don’t.
Other stories that seem to me to need telling: how we went from a thorougly Republican to the very progressive Democratic town we have for decades been known as.
How in “our” time we’ve gone from the 1970s policing described in Alec Wilkinson’s “Midnights” when , as seemed only logical, the town policed itself with cops who lived locally to the present, when there are no officers living in town.
By what stages we went from resenting the federal taking two-thirds of our town for a National Seashore to cherishing it.
How the Catholic Church became our community center, Preservation Hall.
How royalty on the lam from Old World revolutions who ended up here.
There’s the garbage story: from backyards to town dump to transfer station: dates and details, please.
It would be great having a story explaining how we went in only 65 years ago from a town with five grocery stores for 1000 people (as I’ve read) to doing most of our shopping in a town 20 minutes away.
So many stories; anything close to a comprehensive list would swamp this space. Just this one little town could use a team of professional historians. Since that’s not likely to happen, here are some other ideas. Encourage every family rooted a generation or two to write up its story.
Perhaps each restaurant and inn could build into their advertising budgets the research and write-up of the colorful history of their building, for the edification and entertainment of their customers.
Get kids in local schools involved, making the town’s history a subject to be studied and written up in term papers.
Neighborhoods could form committees to write up history from that perspective. The history of just the last 50 years of the half mile of sand road I live on would make a small book.
As our town edges closer to becoming a retirement community, it seems good moment for history to come out of the closet. Is our aging (but curious and energetic) population up to the task of turning a collection of old objects—and memories—into history?
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