Today would have marked the 85th birthday of Saundra M. Graham, Cambridge community activist and politician.
Saundra was born in Cambridge on September 5, 1941 and attended public schools here, later going on to the University of Massachusetts and Harvard University Extension. Saundra moved to Boston after marrying Carl Graham, Sr. in 1958. Following the couple’s divorce, Saundra returned to Cambridge in 1968 to raise her five children, settling in the Riverside neighborhood.
Cambridge City Council, Police Brutality Hearings, Civil Rights lawyer William Homans (top left), Saundra Graham (bottom left), and Joanne Pelham (bottom right), January 1971. Photographed by Olive Pierce. Cambridge Room, Cambridge Public Library Archives and Special Collections
That year, Saundra joined the Board of Directors of the Cambridge Community Center. In 1971, she helped found and became president of the Riverside Cambridgeport Community Development Corporation, which provided and upgraded low- and moderate-income housing for Cambridge residents. During the 1970 Harvard commencement, Saundra led a protest against the university’s expansion into and eviction of long-time Riverside residents. The protest succeeded in compelling the university to construct inclusive housing complexes over the next ten years.
In 1971, Saundra became the first woman of color to be elected to the Cambridge City Council. As City Councilor, Vice Mayor, and later State Representative, she played a key role in obtaining federal housing dollars for Cambridge that resulted in rehabilitation and modernization of public housing. In 1976, Saundra was elected as State Representative, a seat she held for twelve years, becoming the first black woman representative from Cambridge to the State House. She continued to work for fair housing in the legislature and was dedicated to obtaining economic justice for the poor, elderly, unemployed, minorities and women.
New City Council – Members of the Cambridge City Council are posed here following inaugural ceremony at City Hall. Front, from left, Out-going Mayor Walter J. Sullivan, Saundra Graham, Alfred E. Vellucci, senior councilor in 12th term; Barbara Ackermann and Thomas W. Danehy. Rear, Joseph Connarton, deputy city clerk; Leonard J. Russell, Daniel J. Clinton, David E. Clem, new councilor; Francis H. Duehay and City Clerk Paul Healy. Photographed by Ed Pacheco, 1976.
Saundra passed away on June 23, 2023. Though her accomplishments are too numerous to list here, a portion of her obituary emphasizes her dedication to public service: “Saundra was a stalwart of her community. She was a champion for all and spent her lifework ensuring that family, neighbors, the community, and the people of the State of Massachusetts were seen, heard, valued, and uplifted. She was the voice of the people and a beacon of change.”
Come meet the archivists, historians, and organizations preserving Cambridge’s history. Explore collections, discover stories, and chat with the people who help keep our local history alive!
Joan Lorentz Park September 12, 2026 Free & open to all ages!
The 2½-story Gothic Revival house that first stood at 64 Highland Street, situated across the street from the Highland Street Reservoir, was constructed in 1860 for owner Charles Coffin Little, co-founder of the publishing firm Little, Brown and Company.
64 Highland Street photographed by Bertram Adams on March 13, 1963. CHC collections.
The most romantic of the picturesque styles and the one that first attracted American architects and builders was the Gothic Revival. The style first appeared in the United States in churches and was not widely adopted for houses until well into the 19th century as prospective owners looked to a romanticized past for design inspiration.
64 Highland Street photographed by Ed James in April 1949. CHC collections.
While the Greek Revival style was much more popular due to American desires to separate from British-influenced types, a few commissions were inspired by British Gothic buildings. The Gothic Revival style in America was advanced by architects Alexander Jackson Davis and Andrew Jackson Downing, authors of influential house plan books, which promoted appropriate designs for rural settings. Houses in this style are often designed with complex and irregular shapes and forms fitting well into the natural landscape.
64 Highland Street photographed by Roger Gilman. Date unknown. CHC collections.
In 1863, Little sold the handsome house to Professor Charles Franklin Dunbar, a historian and the first Chair of Political Economy at Harvard. Dunbar was Dean of Harvard College from 1876 to 1882 and Dean of the reorganized Faculty of Arts and Sciences from 1890 to 1895. Professor Dunbar died in his home on January 29, 1900. The house was then owned by his son William H. Dunbar, who died in the house in August 1935 at age 72.
Katherine Copeland Dunbar (Mrs. William H. Dunbar) on Highland Street with the Highland Street Reservoir at left. Source: Charles W. Eliot II.
64 Highland St was set to be sold the following spring. Newspaper clippings note a wide array of tenants at the property in the following decades until it was purchased by Alan and Claire Steinert in the early 1960s. Finding the house too large and outdated for their tastes, the couple demolished the building to make way for a new modern residence to be designed by architect F.F. Bruck.
Check out yesterday’s Modern Monday post to learn more about the house that replaced this Gothic Revival building and still stands on the lot today.
In the early 1960s, architect Ferdinand Friedrich (Frederick) Adrian Bruck, known professionally as F.F. Bruck, was commissioned by Alan and Claire Steinert to design a new residence in the Reservoir Hill area of West Cambridge. Bruck was a Harvard GSD graduate who studied under Walter Gropius, a pioneer of modernist architecture.
64 Highland Street photographed by CHC staff in 1968
Bruck later apprenticed at the engineering firm of Stone & Webster, designing power plants, dams, and similar structures. Following his graduation, Bruck taught at the GSD part time as an Associate Professor, a position he held from 1952-1963. Concurrently, he was hired by The Architects Collaborative (TAC) under Gropius and assisted in designs with the firm as well as accepting independent commissions under his company, F. Frederick Bruck, Architect and Associates.
64 Highland Street photographed by CHC staff in 1968
At the time of Bruck’s commission, Alan, a member of the Steinert Piano family, and his wife Claire were in their sixties. When they purchased the former Charles C. Little House on Highland St, they decided it was too large and dated for their tastes. The large Gothic Revival house was demolished and Bruck was tasked with designing a one-story modern home to allow the couple to age in place, display their art collection, and accommodate social gatherings.
64 Highland Street photographed by CHC staff in 1967
The couple insisted on incorporating the latest technologies, including central air conditioning, radiant heating, and low voltage lighting to illuminate their artworks. The design was featured in the 1965 edition of Architectural Record’s annual Record Houses publication, highlighting the best residential project designs of the past year.
64 Highland Street photographed by CHC staff in 1968
Describing the construction of the house, Bruck noted that “the house is wood frame with dark brick veneer. Brick was chosen to blend with the substantial character of the surrounding houses, to reduce maintenance, and because it is a material which could meet the sloping terrain. Wood frame was chosen for economy and to facilitate construction during the winter months.” The building remains one of the best examples of 1960s residential designs in Cambridge.
Today marks the 121st birthday of Helen M. Thomas!
Portrait of Helen Meriwether Lewis (1923). Image courtesy Schlesinger Library, Harvard Radcliffe Institute.
Born Helen Meriwether Lewis on August 21, 1905 in New York, she began her early education in the city and continued her high school years at St. Catherine’s School in Richmond, VA. Helen earned her AB from Radcliffe College in 1928 in government, but her interest in astronomy was inspired by undergraduate work at the Harvard College Observatory (HCO), where she assisted Professor Willem Luyten in identifying white dwarf stars.
Entry for Helen Meriwether Lewis, The Year Book of 1928, Radcliffe College. Image courtesy Schlesinger Library, Harvard Radcliffe Institute.
Helen married Frederick M. Thomas shortly after her graduation and they had one son. The marriage ended and Helen found employment in many organizations. She worked for three years as secretary to Leon Campbell, head of the American Association of Variable Star Observers (AAVSO), then affiliated with the HCO. She joined the Observatory staff under the remarkable astronomer Cecelia Payne-Goposchkin. During the late 1930s, Helen began work towards a PhD in the History of Science under supervision of Harvard professor George Sarton, preparing a thesis on the history of variable star observations from the 2nd century B.C. to the 19th century A.D. At the beginning of World War II, her graduate work was interrupted by war work, and her degree was not awarded until 1948.
Group portrait of Helen Lewis Thomas and her staff at MIT Research Laboratory of Electronics (1968). Image courtesy Schlesinger Library, Harvard Radcliffe Institute.
Helen was “drafted” first into the Harvard Radio Research Laboratory and, shortly after, into the MIT Radiation Laboratory, where she worked with science historian Henry Guerlac, preparing a history of the laboratory. In 1947 she was named a senior engineer at Raytheon Manufacturing Co, where she remained until 1954, working on guidance systems.
Exterior view of apartment building at 55 Langdon St, Cambridge. Image via Google Street View (June 2018).
Helen lived for a time at 55 Langdon Street in Cambridge. She returned to MIT as an editor and head of publications at the MIT Research Laboratory of Electronics until her retirement in 1971.
Entry for “Closest Prediction” in the 1987 Guinness Book of World Records, edited by Alan Russell.
In 1986, she was awarded a $50K prize by Trans World Airlines (TWA) for accurately predicting, thirty years before, the range, cruising speed, passenger capacity, and use of jet engines by commercial airlines (earning a listing in the Guinness Book of World Records). She died shortly before her ninety-second birthday, and a memorial service was held at Christ Church, Cambridge.
To learn the stories of more trailblazing women like Helen Meriwether Thomas, visit the Cambridge Women’s Heritage Project database: https://cwhp.cambridgema.gov/
Laughing men in sodden bathing costumes on a dock, photographed ca. 1895-1905 by Ralph N. Smith. Cambridge Historical Commission, Ralph N. Smith collection.
Did you know that what we today call “swimming,” in the 19th century, was generally referred to as “bathing?” Hence, today we still use the terms “bathhouses,” (sometimes spelled as two separate words) and “bathing suits.” The early 1800s had already seen private bathhouses along the Cambridge shoreline – Harvard had one in 1810 and 1841 near Hawthorne and Bath streets, and in 1830 the Cambridge Humane Society had built one near today’s Anderson Bridge. This post, however, focuses on the history of 19th century municipal swimming places on the banks of the Charles River in Cambridge, beginning upstream at Gerry’s Landing and moving downstream to the floating bathhouse at River Street, and finally to Captains Island – now called Magazine Beach.
First, a little history. The latter half of the 1800s saw a strong movement extolling the health benefits of bathing, especially for those without access to private swimming pools—or even a bathtub in their own home. This movement was one of the driving forces behind developing public bathing spots and “bathhouses” along the Charles.
By 1867 the Cambridge Alderman’s Committee on Health advocated for five free public bathing places. Decisions about the development of the beaches, including bathhouses, concessions, floats, and changes in location were entangled in complicated governmental structures created by the State legislature (creating the Metropolitan District Commission, and Parks Commission), and by Cambridge‘s own Aldermen and Parks Department. Even after the City of Cambridge conveyed responsibility for the entire Charles River Park system to the Metropolitan District Commission in 1921, there continued to be tussles and renegotiations.
Gerry’s Landing, pronounced with the hard “g” sound and not to be confused with “Jerry’s (soft “g”) Pit” in North Cambridge, was located at the same bend near what is now the intersection of Memorial Drive, Mount Auburn Street, Alewife Brook Parkway, and Greenough Boulevard.
Aerial view of the intersection of Memorial Drive, Mt. Auburn St, and Greenough Blvd. adjacent to the Browne & Nichols school. The Eliot Bridge is at the bottom of the photograph. This area is still referred to as Gerry’s Landing. Image: NearMap MapBrowser imagery captured 9 April 2026.
Before it became Gerry’s Landing, this bend in the river was called “Sir Richard’s Landing” after the leader of the first European settlers who settled in Watertown in 1603. It is also well known because of Harvard Professor Eben Norton Horsford’s (debunked) theory that Leif Erikson traveled up the Charles and landed there in the year 1000.
Gerry’s Landing was named after Elbridge Gerry (1744-1824), signer of the Declaration of Independence, Congressman, Governor of Massachusetts, co-author of the Bill of Rights, and Vice President under James Madison. These days, he is most well-known for his eponymous voter redistricting map in Massachusetts, whipped up in order to further his political interests. Called “gerrymandering” (erroneously with a soft g), political cartoonists made the plan to resemble a salamander, and as such it has passed down to us today.
Elbridge Gerry (1744-1814) by Nathaniel Jocelyn, c. 1845-1847. Harvard Art Museums/Fogg Museum, Louise E. Bettens Fund.
“The Gerry-mander” as printed in Magazine of American History, 1872. The Miriam and Ira D. Wallach Division of Art, Prints and Photographs: Picture Collection, The New York Public Library.
Detail: Atlas of the City of Cambridge, Massachusetts (G.M. Hopkins & Co., 1886) showing “The Ancient Road to Gerry’s Landing.”
Pinpointing who exactly was responsible for maintaining the Gerry’s Landing beach during the 19th century was complicated. The question arose in 1883 when the Cambridge Hospital was considering building the hospital on Mt. Auburn St., but wanted to assurance that that the landing was “secured for the city” so that their contagious disease patients, brought upriver on boats, could disembark without objection. Eventually, the Alderman agreed to take possession of the landing, and the hospital was built the following year.
In 1918, the city provided men and boys with a bathhouse; but it was not until 1920 that women were accommodated (sort of), with a portable iron voting booth for changing. This was rectified by 1934 when men and women each had seperate bathhouses, which the city provided until WWII.
“Beach Scene at Gerry’s Landing” as published in the Park Commissioners report in The Annual Reports Made to the City Council for the Year Ending March 31, 1925. Note the float on the river.
The demise of the original Gerry’s Landing beach arrived in 1947 with the extension of Memorial Drive westward to the intersection the Alewife Brook Parkway and Mt. Auburn St. In anticipation of this, the MDC committed to creating a “new” Gerry’s Landing beach a couple of hundred yards further up the river in the vicinity of the Browne and Nichols boathouse. This move involved a certain amount of excavating and constructing of a beachfront. On July 4, 1930, The Cambridge Chronicle reported that “The new beach, which has been covered with tons of sand by the Metropolitan district commission, is already proving popular with the patrons of the old Gerry’s landing beach.” By 1941, a bathhouse had been built at the new site.
The new Gerry’s Landing swimming beach also met its demise (along with all other beaches on the Charles) in 1949 when the Metropolitan District Commission closed all beaches due to pollution.
Gerry’s Landing today, with sculls of the Cambridge Boat Club. Image: Kathleen Fox, July 2026
The River Street Floating Bathhouse
This floating bathhouse actually began its life in 1888 at the foot of the Western Avenue bridge. Shortly after its installation, effluent from a nearby sewer was discovered. Consequently, the bathhouse was moved downstream to a mooring on the right-hand side of the River St. Bridge.
Floating bathhouses were popular in the 19th century. By 1897, Boston had about six of them on its various waterfronts, including one on the Charles River at Craigie’s Bridge, which Cantabrigians often used. These were generally wood frame enclosures with gaps that allowed the river to run through them while at the same time providing a sort of designated swimming pool area to secure bathers from the current. The bathhouses might be open to the sky or enclosed, providing deck space and even changing rooms. While to date we don’t have an illustration of the River Street bathhouse, it may have borne some resemblance to this bathhouse in New York City:
Interior of a Swimming Bath drawn by Stanley Fox and as published in Harper’s Weekly (August 20, 1870). Image courtesy New York Historical Society.
The overall dimensions of the River Street bathhouse were 70 feet long by 28 feet wide, with the swimming tank being about 35 by 18 feet. It featured a safety rope “so that small boys who cannot swim can enter the tank in perfect safety.”
The July 28, 1888 edition of The Cambridge Chronicle described it: “On the left of the entrance is the keeper’s office while on the righthand of the house and in the rear are closets….It is boarded on all sides, although small openings allow the water to have a splendid circulation. The water is 4 feet deep and there is one pair of stairs that lead down into the water. The plans were drawn by City Engineer Barbour. In order to give flotation to the building and have enough water in the tank, eight oil casks with a capacity of 120 gallons have been used. There are also several ships’ spars on which the house floats…”
It cost only three cents for boys and men (judging from the newspapers, women and girls didn’t have use of the bathhouse) to pick up a clean towel and a key to one of the closets. After changing in the closet and locking it, the customer returned the key to the manager, who took his name and address and gave him the number to wear around his neck. At the end of the swim, the swimmer handed in the number and received the key to fetch his clothes, Generally, order was well maintained: “…though this is no easy thing to accomplish when the tank is as full of boys as it is possible to fill it, and the rest of the house is filled with others who are waiting their turn to get into the water. The utmost good nature generally prevails…the benefit this public bath is to the youth of the city cannot be estimated…There should be several more of them…” (The Cambridge Chronicle 14 June 1890)
Today we forget that the Charles was a tidal river as far up as the falls (now a dam) at Watertown. Tides, and the smelly mud flats they created, also played a significant role in how, when, and where to construct beaches and bathhouses. This quote the explains the situation: “There are times when the tide is not right when he is obliged to close the door [to the River St. bathhouse] to prevent the boys from bathing in a bath of mud.” (The Cambridge Chronicle, 14 June 1890)
Around the mid-1890s, The Cambridge Chronicle regularly ran a high tide chart to enable bathers to schedule their dip:
The Cambridge Chronicle August 26, 1899
The floating bathhouse was a huge hit: “The River St. Bath house now going fully blast …Often on a hot summer morning when Mr. Clover arrives at the house, he finds a crowd of boys roosted upon the fences and railings of the bridge, some nearly stripped, ready to plunge into the tank as soon as the door is opened…A visit to this one public bath house in the city is interesting and very amusing. In the big tank will be seen boys of every size, nationality and color, reminding one in their evolution of a big pond full of eels.” (The Cambridge Chronicle, 14 June 1890)
After the season closed, the bathhouse was towed to its winter quarters at the rear of the Holmes & Rugg coal wharf, as seen below:
Detail: Atlas of the City of Cambridge, Massachusetts (G.M. Hopkins & Co., 1886) showing location of the winter mooring for the River St. Bathhouse
Sadly, the River St. bathhouse met its end when it was destroyed by fire in April 1899. Moves to build a replacement facility stalled with city government.
Captain’s Island, aka Magazine Beach
Detail: Map of Cambridge by W. A. Mason (1866)
Magazine Beach, originally called “Captain’s Island,” was developed on a small island in Cambridgeport surrounded by marshes. It was named after Captain Daniel Patrick (1605 England-1643 Connecticut) who emigrated to the Massachusetts Bay Colony in 1630. He gained the title “Captain” after the Bay Colony enlisted him to build forts and monitor security. He was given a parcel of land in which included a hill surrounded by marsh, which for centuries was referred to as “Captain’s Island.”
After the Revolution, the property was owned by private families until, in 1817, it was sold to the Commonwealth for the purpose of building a defensive powder magazine (1818). Below is a photograph depicting the state of the powder house in 1890 after it was no longer in use.
“The Old Magazine” – ruins of the Magazine Beach Powder House, 1892. Image courtesy The Cambridge Room.
Later, the powder house was successfully converted into a bathhouse.
During the late 19th century, as the need for more residential space in Cambridge increased, the surrounding marshes began to be filled. At the same time, citizens were lobbying for more public bathing places in addition to Gerry’s Landing and the River Street bathhouse. The city paid attention and in 1894 took the land by eminent domain. This effort was part of a larger project to renovate the Charles River waterfront all the way up to Gerry’s Landing.
In 1899, the city engaged the Olmsted Brothers to draw up plans for landscaping, a new bathing beach, and bathhouse for women.
Cambridge River Parkway Section D – “Captains Island” by H.H. Batchelder. Annual Report of the Park Commissioners, 1899.
The city then renovated the old powder magazine to outfit it as a bathhouse for men and boys. Before the women’s bathhouse was built, as at Gerry’s Landing, a couple of iron voting booths were installed at one end of the beach. The beach itself was improved with river gravel along 430 feet of waterfront.
The Cambridge Chronicle 15 July 1899
The Cambridge Chronicle June 3, 1899
The June 3, 1899 edition of The Cambridge Chronicle outlined the new bathhouse protocol: “Bathers must provide their own suits, but the lockers are free. The man in charge will supply towels, if desired, at a small cost. … Mr. Joseph James, who formerly had supervision of the old city bath house at the foot of River Street is in charge of the present one, and will be assisted by a young man in a bathing suit…who will be on duty all the time, giving his special attention to guarding bathers against the danger from the strong current at this point.”
A month and a half later, on July 17, 1899, it was recorded that 750 bathers used the venue that day. In July, the city also acquired a row boat “for use in case of any danger to life in the water.” The Cambridge Chronicle remarked “the beach (how strange it seems to talk about a Cambridge ‘beach’) is thronged with observers, men, women and children, who go there for an airing and to see the bathers.” In January 1900, the paper reported that during the 1899 season “…about 30,500 people used the bathing beach.”
“Beach at Captains Island” Annual Report of the Park Commissioners by Cambridge Park Commissioners, 1899
In 1900, an extravagant proposal for a new bathhouse surfaced. It was designed by Architect George Moore but never built.
The Cambridge Chronicle February 17, 1900
By 1901, there were four bathhouses at Captain’s Island including a women’s bathhouse. The men’s facility featured four-foot-high lockers “to allow the men to hang their trousers full length without creasing them.” The new bathhouse use rates were slightly more than they had been at the floating River St bathhouse: “…Bathing suits and towels may be obtained from the attendant in charge of each bath house. The following prices will prevail: Suit, towel and locker accommodation, 10¢; suit, towel and dressing room, 15¢; dressing room, with towel, without suit, 10¢. extra towels, each 3¢…” (The Cambridge Chronicle June 15, 1901)
“Bathing Beach” [at Captain’s Island] Annual Report of the Park Commissioners by Cambridge Park Commissioners, 1901
Women’s bathing suits at the time would have looked something like those on these ladies at Long Beach California:
“Out for a Time, Long Beach. 661.” ca. 1898 by Shirley V. Bacon. SoCa Digitization Project, California State Library.
Bathers at Magazine Beach, 1906. Gas tanks of the Boston Consolidated Gas Company on Cambridge St can be seen across the river. Cambridge Historical Commission Collections, gift of Walter L. Colburn.
Swimming on Magazine Beach in 1935. Image courtesy MDC Archives/Boston Public Library
Pollution in the Charles had always closed beaches for days at a time. Much of the pollution arose from aging sewer systems that combined residential and industrial waste with storm water runoff. In 1949, pollution was so high it became a public health hazard and the MDC closed all beaches on the Charles permanently.
Two girls viewing the “No Bathing Beached Closed” sign at Magazine Beach in 1948, photographed by Kenneth J. Connant, Jr. for The Boston Globe.
In response to beach closures, the Metropolitan District Commission agreed to build a free public swimming pool at Magazine Beach. Designed by the John M. Gray Co., it opened in 1951. It is now the Veterans Memorial Swimming Pool and is still open and free to the public today.
MDC Bathhouse – 719 Memorial Drive photographed by Edward Jacoby ca. 1975. Cambridge Historical Commission collections.
Swimming pool at Magazine Beach. Image: Magazine Beach Partners.
The old Magazine Beach Powder House bathhouse was renovated in 2021 by the firms of Johnson Roberts Associates, Inc. and Clark and Green Architecture, who received a preservation award from the Cambridge Historical Commission.
The Magazine Beach Powder House won a Cambridge Historical Commission Preservation Award in 2022
Today, Magazine Beach includes a promenade, boat launch, and swimming pool. (The shoreline is currently under restoration.)
Magazine Beach Promenade and shoreline today. Images Kathleen Fox
The Clean Water Act of 1972 and the establishment of the Massachusetts Water Resources Authority in 1985 went a long way to clean up the river. First organized in 2013, the Charles River Conservancy Swimming Initiative now holds “City Splash,” an annual event that allows people to take a dip in the Charles in a circumscribed area by the Fiedler Dock on the Boston Esplanade.
Cambridge Public Library’s Historic Cambridge Newspaper Collection.
“Charles River Reservation, Boston, Cambridge, Newton, and Watertown” in Report of the Board of Metropolitan Park Commissioners, page 53, 1896, Olmsted, Olmsted & Eliot (1895).
Historical sketches of Watertown, Massachusetts, compiled in part for history of Middlesex County, Massachusetts. Pub by J. V. Lewis & Co, Philadelphia 1890, and by Solon F. Whitney of the Historical Society of Watertown, Massachusetts (1893).
History Cambridge (formerly the Cambridge Historical Society).
Mayor’s Address at the Organization of the City Government and Reports of the Committee on Finance, the Overseers of the Poor, the Chief Engineer, and the School Committee by City of Cambridge (various years).
Metropolitan District Commission Minutes by Massachusetts Metropolitan District Commission (various years).
Origin, Development and Activities of the Metropolitan District Commission by Massachusetts Metropolitan District Commission (1964).
“Report of the Committee on Gerry’s Landing” in Mayor’s Address at the Organization of the City Government and Annual Reports Made to the City Council (1884).
Report of the Preliminary Commission of 1893 by Massachusetts Metropolitan Park Commissioners.
Survey of Architectural History in Cambridge, Volume 3: Cambridgeport by Cambridge Historical Commission (1971).
Today would mark the 119th birthday of Cantabrigian Corinne Woodson Alleyne. Alleyne, born Corinne Helen Woodson on July 21, 1907 in Cambridge, was a registered nurse, oral historian, videographer, and documentary filmmaker. For the first several years of her life, Corinne lived with her father Albert, who worked as a hotel waiter, her mother Emma, and her siblings in Cambridge. The family boarded at 16 Hubbard Avenue, one in a set of ten three-story brick rowhouses constructed by the New England Brick Company in 1872.
Detail of City of Cambridge, Mass : 1877 Map. Boston: Franklin View Co., 1877 via Digital Commonwealth, showing building that once stood at 16-34 Hubbard Ave
Mrs. Alleyne was licensed as a nurse in 1930, but was denied work for 12 years because she was African American. She was finally hired during WWII when there was a shortage of nurses. Through her long career, she worked as a nurse in Boston hospitals, as a private nurse, and as a Boston Public Health Commission nursing supervisor. In 1954, she was elected Chairwoman of the Massachusetts Nurses Association private duty nurse section.
“Corinne Alleyne, a video producer, oral historian and former nurse, works at a video editing machine at Continental Cablevision (photo by Cheryl A. Miller)” The Cambridge Chronicle, 9/27/1990
In her retirement, Mrs. Alleyne became an oral historian, videographer and documentary filmmaker, recording histories of Boston senior citizens. In 1986, Alleyne, Kathleen Walcott and E. Denise Simmons organized an exhibit for Black History Month titled “Cambridge Black History: The Invisible Years”. In a Boston Globe article about the exhibit, Alleyne said, “We want to build awareness in young peoples’ minds of their culture. History will die if not collected.” In 1998, she was honored by Mayor Menino and the City of Boston with a lifetime achievement award. She died in September 2000 at the age of 93. We thank Corinne Woodson Alleyne and recognize her work to collect, preserve, and share her community’s history.
To learn more about trailblazing women like Corinne Woodson Alleyne, visit the Cambridge Women’s Heritage Project database: https://cwhp.cambridgema.gov/
Barbara Ward Armstrong (1940–2013) was a gifted visual and performing artist who was born and raised in Cambridge. She was an accomplished musician, dancer, and seamstress who fashioned many of her own clothes and designed theatrical costumes. Barbara’s design and fabric artistry culminates in her richly textured African-inspired fabric sculptures, also known as soft sculptures, a medium she helped to define. These soft sculptures range from doll-size to life-size and are constructed entirely of dark-hued fabric and are adorned from head to toe in colorful fabrics, beads, and other artifacts representing all corners of the African Diaspora.
Barbara Ward Armstrong. Image courtesy Cambridge Black History Project
Although most of the sculptures are held in private collections, a family of four, called New Race II, was recently donated to the Cambridge Public Library and is currently on exhibit at the Institute of Contemporary Art (ICA) “Say It Loud” exhibition through August 2. “Say It Loud” is an historic collection of the works of thirty-nine artists affiliated with the African American Master Artists-in-Residence Program (AAMARP) at Northeastern University.
The Cambridge Black History Project is hosting a special tour of “Say It Loud” on July 23. There are a limited number of spaces available. Please contact the CBHP by July 18 at info@cambridgeblackhistoryproject.org for further details if you would like to join them on this special tour.
The white card above is an example of a property record card from the Dudley & Borland Real Estate and Insurance Company of Cambridge. The company was founded circa 1927 by Robert Parker Dudley (1900-1983) and James Post Borland (1900-1979). Focusing primarily on properties in West Cambridge, their offices were appropriately located at 1374 Mass Ave in Harvard Square.
Portrait of Robert Parker Dudley as published in History of the Class of Nineteen Hundred Twenty-three, Yale College, Volume 1 (p. 112)
Portrait of James P. Borland as printed in The Magazine of Cambridge, January 1946 (p. 28)
Both Dudley and Borland were active in the Cambridge Boy Scouts and various Cambridge organizations. Among other professional activities, Dudley served as a member of the board of the Cambridge Savings Bank and was President of the Society of Real Estate Appraisers. Borland served on the Boston Real Estate Board, Brokers Division, in the Cambridge Chamber of Commerce.
Advertisement for Dudley & Borland real estate and insurance firm in the 1928 Cambridge City Directory
The Cambridge Historical Commission acquired the Dudley & Borland Card Collection in 2021 through the generosity of long-time Cambridge real estate broker Robert (Bob) Crocker, then-owner of the company’s final iteration, Dudley & Borland Ellis & Andrews. Mr. Crocker was a member of the Cambridge Historical Commission and former vice-President of the Cambridge Historical Society, now History Cambridge.
The Dudley Borland Card Collection covers the period from 1927-1979. Each of these white cards contains a record of all the transactions on a single property over a period of years, scribbled in different colored inks. This detailed content on nearly 3,000properties on 366 Cambridge streets is stunning! Details include the names and contact numbers of owners, the number of floors, the number of rooms and their layout, and the number of baths. Also included are financial town assessment and mortgage histories, construction details, land improvements such as shrubbery and general landscaping, and whether a garage was built on the premises. It is interesting to note that proximity to nearby local grade schools was included on the cards, giving us a clue to the company’s target audience and marketing strategy.
Equally stunning are the nearly 900 photographs in the collection. Visual representation is important in historical preservation and research. In some instances, these photographs provide the Commission with its first photographic record of a home. Often, these photographs fill a visual void and allow us to see what a particular building looked like before subsequent additions, alterations, or demolition.
Example of an image from the collection: 101 Washington Ave circa 1955. Before this collection was donated, the CHC had only one historical photograph of this house, taken in 1890.
In addition, there are photos of land that was less developed than we might see today, such as this photograph showing the corner of Reservoir and Highland Streets:
A particular property may often contain a “Comparative Sales Chart” document. This is another source of general information about housing costs in similar neighborhoods at the time:
Comparative Sales Chart form for 7 Riedesel Ave. Dudley Borland Card Collection, Cambridge Historical Commission
Additional color-coded, cards in the collection include typed information in brief on date of sale and owner or seller—perhaps tracking real estate deals made by other brokers on houses that might eventually come under the Dudley Borland purview.
Also present are clippings of obituaries from local newspapers featuring many property owners. The inclusion of these clippings adds to the understanding of Dudley & Borland’s market and the essence of the times.
Some of the homes that Dudley & Borland bought or sold had previously passed through the hands of the Ellis Andrews Company real estate firm operating in the same territory. Founded in 1888 (and going through several name changes), Ellis & Andrews was Cambridge’s oldest real estate company. In 1994, the Cambridge Historical Commission received a collection of Ellis & Andrews’ correspondence covering years primarily between 1893-1936. The collection is memorable for the late 19th and early 20th century social conditions and biases revealed in its correspondents. For more information on this collection, see our blog post from 2017: The Ellis & Andrews Real Estate Collection.
The Cambridge Chronicle March 16, 1889 showing ad for William R. Ellis (1846-1903)
There was an overlap in the years both firms were active, especially in the earlier part of the 20th century:
The Cambridge Tribune August 23, 1930
After the original founders of both companies passed on, each company was bought or associated with other real estate/insurance companies. Around 1995, the companies merged, forming Dudley & Borland Ellis & Andrews. This version of the company also passed through several owners.
The Cambridge Chronicle September 21, 1995
These two collections represent over 100 years of real estate transactions in Cambridge. Not only do they contribute to our understanding of the evolution of specific properties and neighborhoods, but they also fill out an overall sense of the times.
Beginning in 1879, until her death in 1911, Sara Chapman Bull lived in Cambridge, first at “Elmwood” (the Oliver-Gerry-Lowell House), and from 1889 until her death at 168 Brattle Street. A number of facts about her should pique our interest:
At age 20, she was married in a semi-secret ceremony in Norway to a 60-year-old renowned Norwegian concert violinist Ole Bull.
She was an early adherent and supporter of Swami Vivekananda, who introduced the Indian philosophy of Vedanta to the West.
She initiated and funded the Cambridge Conferences, a series of seminars at her home which drew important secular and religious lecturers.
Sarah Thorp Bull and Family, ca. 1890 (3.01BC) Left to right: Joseph Thorp, Jr., Sarah Thorp Bull, Annie Longfellow Thorp, unidentified woman, Olea Bull, Mrs. Amelia Chapman Thorp, (and seated) unidentified woman. Likely taken at 168 Brattle Street, Cambridge, Massachusetts. Image courtesy History Cambridge.
Sara Bull was born Sara Chapman Thorp in 1850 in Oxford, New York. Her parents later moved to Eau Claire, Wisconsin where her father, Joseph G. Thorp, became wealthy in the lumber business. The family moved to Madison in 1866 after Joseph was elected to the State Senate. Her mother, Amelia, was a formidable individual who played a prominent role in Madison society. Sara was raised in a conventional manner under the controlling eye of her mother. This somewhat sheltered upbringing changed dramatically when she was introduced to Ole Bull, an internationally renowned Norwegian violinist who came to Madison on an American concert tour.
Portrait of Ole Bull by Franz Hanfstaengl. Image courtesy Bergen Public Library Norway.
Despite strong objections from her father–but with the encouragement of her socially ambitious mother–Sara Thorp and Ole Bull became engaged in early 1870, she age 20, he 60. Sara and her mother then accepted Ole’s invitation to visit Norway where, in a private ceremony, they were married in June, 1870. In the fall of that year, a splendid formal wedding took place in Madison. A daughter, Olea, was born in March, 1871.
Sara Olea Bull Vaughan posed, 1893. Courtesy of National Park Service, Longfellow House-Washington’s Headquarters National Historic Site (1006/004.002.010).
For the next ten years Sara, when not at Madison, traveled with Ole to concerts throughout the United States and Europe, occasionally serving as his piano accompanist. After beginning his college career at the University of Wisconsin, Sara’s brother, Joseph G. Thorp, Jr., graduated from Harvard College in 1879. That same year, the Thorp parents, Sara, Ole, and Olea moved from Madison to Cambridge, where they rented Elmwood from James Russell Lowell. In 1880 Ole, aged 70, died in Norway with Sara at his side.
Elmwood, 33 Elmwood Avenue (built 1767). Photo ca. 1895–1900, showing the gardener’s cottage that was attached to main house. CHC collections.
Following her husband’s death, Sara continued to make her home in Cambridge and began a productive life of her own. She lived at Elmwood until 1889, when she and her family moved to a new house her father had built at 168 Brattle Street.
In 1883, Sara published Ole Bull: A Memoir. She also published a journal article supporting the claim that Norsemen discovered New England and raised funds for the statue of the Norseman presently standing at the western terminus of Commonwealth Avenue in Boston. Sara entered the Boston social scene and became close friends with such luminaries as Annie Fields, Celia Thaxter, Julia Ward Howe and Sarah Orne Jewett. Important connections were further cemented when her brother Joseph married Anne Allegra, youngest daughter of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.
Title page of Ole Bull: A Memoir (1910) by Sara Chapman Bull
Sara Bull likely met Swami Vivekananda, founder of the Vedanta philosophy, in Boston or Cambridge in 1892. This encounter initiated her extensive sponsorship and financial support of the Swami’s work, both in the United States and India, particularly Vedanta schools. She traveled a number of times to India to lend support to these and other schools—particularly for girls–that were being established there.
In 1896 Sara initiated, hired a director for, and financially sustained what she titled the Cambridge Conferences. These weekly “class lectures” ran from November through May for four years and were held at her house at 168 Brattle Street. This was a wide-ranging intellectual endeavor, its purpose being “to afford opportunity for the comparative study of Ethics, Philosophy, Sociology and Religion”. A significant number of important philosophers and religious leaders of the day lectured at the Conferences.
Members of the Bull and Thorp family stand outside 168 Brattle Street, Sara Thorp Bull’s residence. Courtesy of National Park Service, Longfellow House-Washington’s Headquarters National Historic Site (1006/004.002.010).
Sara also encouraged and financially supported important efforts of Dr. J. C. Bose, an Indian scientist doing pioneering work on remote wireless, and Okakura Kakuso, an expert on Japanese art who carried out the first classification of Asian Art at the Boston Museum of Fine Arts. She met both these gentlemen in their home countries, and later opened her Cambridge home to them and promoted their work in this country.
When Sara Chapman Bull died in 1911, she was cremated at Mt. Auburn Cemetery and her ashes spread at Lysøen, Norway, the site of an island house she inherited from Ole Bull.
Bull villa in Lysøen, photographed 10 June 2005 by Sean Hayford O’Leary. Image obtained via Wikimedia Commons under the Creative CommonsAttribution 2.0 Generic license.
Today’s post was written by Cambridge resident Ted Hansen, a community volunteer and former President of the Cambridge Historical Society (now History Cambridge).
