Friday, March 4, 2022

Came Over on the Mayflower

Revere & Son Bell Returns Home




Joseph Warren Revere walked across the dusty path that lead from his house to the nearby bell foundry. A pair of drowsy eyed oxen waited hitched to a heavy oak cart. It was a delivery day and a new bell had been cast that would be sent to another faraway place. Revere took a personal interest in each of the bells as they were made. The words “Revere Boston” were cast along the upper part of the bell that left the foundry in Canton.  Paul Revere had taught his son the importance of personally inspecting each and every bell that left the forge. Running his fingers across the family name, Revere then watched the wagon roll out the gates on a 700 mile trip to Cleveland, Ohio. That very same bell is about to return to Canton, tomorrow, after a 3,000 mile trip across America. Tomorrow – the bell comes home. 

 

The Revere family had a long history with church bells. As a boy, Paul Revere signed a contract with Christ Church (the Old North Church) to serve as a bell ringer, even though he attended the New Brick Church of Boston. During the American Revolution, Revere took on the role of his lifetime and is widely hailed as a true founding patriot. After the war, Revere returned to his roots of metallurgy and began casting a number of useful items for the economic growth of the United States, bells among his line of products. 

 

It all started in 1792, when Revere’s congregation of the New Brick Church sought to replace their bell that had cracked. Revere, with the a reputation for taking on impossible tasks, believed he could cast the large bell to replace the one that had been “injured.” The casting of the 912 pound bell was not entirely successful. The bell had visible imperfections and a poor tone quality. Revere persevered and through the iterative process of failures and successes, the bells became better and more refined. Working closely with Joseph Warren, the enterprise flourished and he proclaimed that "we know we can cast as good bells as can be cast in the world, both for goodness and for sound.”

 

Originally located in the North End, Revere’s foundry began by producing materials for shipbuilding, such as nails and fittings, before developing the ability to produce more recognizable items like bells and canons. On October 9, 1804, an unusual late-season storm yielded vast amounts of snow, rain, and powerful winds across the northeastern United States. Known as the Storm of October 1804, it was the first first hurricane in recorded history known to have produced snowfall. The devastation was widespread and included the foundry that was located along the waterfront in Boston. Revere and his son decided to move the entire operation to Canton where the copper rolling mill had been established in 1801. In November 1804, Joseph Warren set off for Europe in order to gain even more technical knowledge of both copper rolling and the production casting large bells. 

 

Upon Paul Revere’s death in 1818, Joseph Warren took on the primary role in the casting of bells and through subsequent corporate name changes continued bell making until 1843. The name “Revere Boston” appeared on bells as early as 1822 through 1843 and the last bell entry in the Revere stockbooks was dated 1828, though bells made after 1824 did not carry a date on them. More than 969 bells were cast with the Revere name, and many were cast right here in Canton in a foundry building that was demolished after 1965. 

 

In Cleveland, Ohio there is a landmark church called the Old Stone Church. The congregation was formed in September 1820. Officially known as The First Presbyterian Church of Cleveland, it was founded at a time when Cleveland was a village of a few hundred people. The first church building was dedicated in 1834. Since it was made of gray sandstone, it became known as “The Stone Church”; as the sandstone darkened, it was later called “The Old Stone Church”. The bell that left Canton was likely the bell that hung in that steeple. A slightly larger structure was constructed in 1853 on the original church site as Cleveland began to grow rapidly. It was about that time that the First Congregational Church in Vermillion, Ohio formed a bell society whose object was to purchase a bell. The bell this society bought had hung in the belfry of the Old Stone Church in Cleveland. 

 

From 1853 to 1954 the bell was in the hands of the Congregational Church. When the building was sold to the Baptist Church, the bell continued to peal on Sundays and special events. In the early 1980’s the church was sold and passed into private hands. The bell was bought by Jeannene and Robert Shanks. Amy Shanks Miller tells the story of the bell. “Mom told us that she was buying a bell, and we all thought she was kidding. But, the way mom saw it, the bell needed a home and for around $1,000 she made the purchase.” In 1958, Jeannene and Robert had relocated to Vermilion, Ohio when Robert took a new position with Ford Motor Co. Jeannene was a housewife and real estate agent in Vermillion. They remained in Ohio until Robert's retirement from Ford in 1983. The bell was purchased near the end of their residency in Ohio, which meant that when she and Robert moved to California, they would move the bell with the Mayflower Moving Company. “Mom would joke that the bell came over on the Mayflower!”  

 

The bell sat in a storage locker for a time, and then between 1990 and 2008 it was at Jeannene’s house in Chino Hills, California. When Jeannene died, the bell moved less than a mile to Amy’s garage where it was rung ceremoniously on July 4th. “About ten years ago I began to think about a home for the bell,” Amy explained, “a rancher from Texas offered us a lot of money and said that if it didn’t work out he could always melt it down for scrap salvage.” Amy was shocked, and began working to find a suitable home for the bell. 

 

Carl S. Zimmerman is an industrial archeologist and noted campanologist – a person that studies bells. This author first worked with Zimmerman in 2008 when trying to save the Revere Rolling Mill and Joseph Warren Revere Barn. Zimmerman talks of bells – the headstock, the bearing blocks, the clapper, the cannon, retaining yoke and gudgeon. After seeing photos of the Revere bell he marveled, “it is the real deal, and that octagonal wrought iron from which the ball of the clapper hangs is quite interesting.” There is much more to learn about this bell, and we are just getting started. “Revere had the time, opportunity and interest and was one of the earliest men to cast bells in the United States.” Folklore suggests that a tiny bit of silver was the secret ingredient in perfecting the tone of Paul Revere’s bells. 

 

Thirteen years had passed since first meeting Zimmerman and the Revere Heritage Site is a reality. Zimmerman was now helping Amy find a home for what she affectionally called her “younger sibling” – the Revere Bell. One of the first calls was to the Paul Revere House. There is a Revere Bell from 1804 on exhibit in the North End home of Revere in the museum courtyard. They referred Zimmerman to this author. In September 2021, this author began to talk and email extensively with Amy. Of great relief, Amy wrote, “I am interested in knowing the bell would have good purpose and care.”  

 

Thus over the next several months we all worked to have the bell contributed to the Revere & Son Heritage Trust. On January 14, 2022 the bell was donated by Amy Shanks Miller and her brother, Robert Shanks as a gift from the legacy of their parents to the Paul Revere Museum of Discovery and Innovation. Only one problem remained – getting a 2000 pound bell, frame and cribbing home to Canton, Massachusetts. 

 

Through the efforts of several individuals, several thousand dollars was raised to ship the bell back east to Canton. Alan Hines, a Heritage Trust Director, solicited friends and colleagues and raised the money needed to get the bell east. And, once again, Mayflower Moving Company loaded the bell onto a truck for the transcontinental trip to Canton. Tomorrow, if all goes according to plan, the bell cast here in 1834 will arrive back with much fanfare. It will be the second Revere Bell in Canton, as the first hangs in the belfry of the First Parish Church and dates to 1824. To bring this bell home took almost seven months and much planning. 

 

The bell will be in temporary storage while ideas are underway for a permanent public display. Plans are to show the bell at the Canton Heritage Day event on May 14th.  Cast at the hands of Joseph Warren Revere, this bell took a fascinating trip through history and five trips to come full circle. Welcome Home! 

Thursday, September 30, 2021

Time After Time

Larry Chelmow in his shop on Chapman Street.

This story was written nine years ago. And, as time passed, my dear friend embraced aging with an ever burgeoning family. Grandchildren and great grandchildren blossomed and this kind man smiled. There is a poignancy in growing old and wise. A day before I learned of Larry’s passing last week, I dreamed of the two of us on a ladder in the local library as we changed out the movement of a clock. The next day, news of Larry’s death reached my email in-box. I was struck by this spiritual moment and our intersection in life.  


Larry had a stroke and he was hanging a clock in his living room when he was stricken. The beauty of the passing is that he was doing what he loved most and following his passion until the end of his life. Betty and Larry had been married sixty years. It was a full and vivid life and one that was very connected to Canton.

Friday, June 4, 2021

A Telegram to 138 High Street

telegram


 Julius Hollander arrived in New York City on April 5, 1938. The trip from Rotterdam was uneventful, despite the fact that German U boats were frequently targeting both military and passenger ships making the crossing to United States extremely dangerous. Back in Amsterdam, Julius’ brother, Walter, was in a Jewish refugee camp and was awaiting departure to join his brother. The two men saw that escape from the Nazis was critical to their own survival and to their family.  

By December 1939, Walter was discharged from the camp as he had procured a visa and a ticket to the United States. Both of the brothers had been well educated and had received a “thorough education in business.” They were from Aachen, Germany – on the Dutch and Belgium borders. In Aachen they had been respectable businessmen and had served on the boards of several charitable organizations. In America there was safety for these Jews, but also a reset. The work they would do here was much more menial and the pay was meager.  

Walter wound up working as a laborer at the E.F. Dodge Company in Leominster for twenty-dollars a week. Julius did slightly better, arriving in Canton around 1940, he took a night job tending the furnaces at the Canton Japanning Company on Neponset Street. Julius was paid sixty cents an hour and would take home twenty-eight dollars a week.  Both brothers found small rented rooms in their respective communities. The japanery made patent leather and was located where the small industrial park is today on Neponset Street, just as you leave Canton on the left.  


In Canton, there was a small and influential Jewish community that worked to help each other against a rising backdrop of anti-immigration sentiments. The neighborhood on High and Tolman Streets w
138 High Street
138 High Street - today.
as home to the Myers, SherrDanovitch and Swardlick families. The Swardlicks were of Russian, Polish and Lithuanian descent and came to Canton before 1920. They had lived on Tolman Street and bought a small house at 138 High Street in 1921. In 1927, Max Swardlick had been crushed in an elevator accident at Plymouth Rubber, leaving his wife Mary with six children. One of the children, Sam would go on to become the president Republic Plumbing. In the late 1930’s Sam attended Northeastern University and Mary rented a room in the house. From 1941 through 1942, that was the house in which Julius typed letters that failed to change the course of history. 


The singular goal for the forty-seven year old man was to save his family. The whole of his savings was intended to “buy” the freedom of his mother, sister and his two nieces.  Julius’ brother in law, Otto, was increasingly fearful of staying in the Netherlands after having moved from Frankfurt, Germany to avoid the dark shift in politics and persecution of the Jewish people. By May 1940, the family became trapped in Amsterdam by the German occupation of the Netherlands.  


In April 1941, Otto wrote to a friend, “Who can tell if there is still a chance to leave Europe by the time this letter is going to arrive.” At the same time, Julius was sitting in his room on High Street at a typewriter and working on behalf of his brother-in-law and the family. “I have information that transit visas for Cuba are available again,” he wrote, “I would appreciate it if you would assist me in obtaining a visa for Mr. Otto Frank as soon as possible.”  


Julius and Walter were Anne Frank’s uncles and they feverishly worked to secure freedom and their very lives. As one historian writes, “The prospect of being able to bring their family to the United States lent purpose to their work.” Their accumulated savings was $2,900. In order to secure a U.S. visa, the Hollanders would have to prove that they could support five people on their laborer wages. This would prove to be impossible. At the same time, Otto Frank had a very influential friend in America that could help, and Walter Hollander was the key to the communications that ensued.  


Otto Frank had been a roommate with Charley Straus, the heir to Macy’s. In 1907 Frank and Straus had met while Straus was on leave from Princeton and studying in Heidelberg. Over the years they stayed in touch and even vacationed together. Charley changed his name to Nathan Straus Jr. and as his fortunes rose, he became extremely influential and a friend to Franklin Roosevelt. Straus was the head of the U.S. Housing Authority, a New Deal Agency and very well connected. Frank confided in his friend, “You are the only person I know that I can ask: Would it be possible for you to give a deposit in my favor?” 


On July 1, 1941 the immigration laws changed and Strauss wrote to Frank, “I am afraid, however, the news is not good news.” A new strategy emerged. Here in Canton, Julius Hollander would be key to helping the Frank family find a way out of Nazi occupied Holland. Julius writes to Strauss, “It would be impossible for me to obtain an immigration visa for this country without your assistance.”  


The plan that had emerged was to procure a transit visa from Cuba at a steep cost of a visitor visa for $250, a boat ticket for the family at $550 and the bond of $2,500 per person to be refunded after they left Cuba. The entire family would have to leave for Cuba and apply for a visa to enter the United States. Strauss had pledged to arrange for a bank deposit of $2,000 per adult and the bonds necessary as well as the tickets need for passage. The money would amount to several thousand dollars to secure the life of the entire family.  


On Thursday, November 27, 1941 a Western Union Telegram was received in the Canton telegraph office and sent to Julius Hollander on High Street, “If you and your brother start negotiations for Cuban visas… Mrs. Straus willing to make necessary deposits as indicated… for Otto Edith Margot Anna Frank. It’s up to you to start if interested.” 

 

There must have be cautious happiness, which was shattered eleven days later when the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor. On December 11th the United States entered the war and Julius Hollander’s application for Otto Frank’s Cuban visa was cancelled that same day. As persecutions of the Jewish population increased on August 4, 1944, the Frank Family went into hiding in some concealed rooms behind a bookcase in the building where Otto Frank, worked. 


Otto Frank survived the horrors of Auschwitz and died in Switzerland in 1980. Edith, his wife, died of starvation at Auschwitz. Anne and Margot died of typhus within days of each other at Bergen-Belsen. In mid 2005 a research volunteer happened upon a file in a manilla folder at YIVO: The Institute for Jewish Research. The file was marked Otto Frank. Looking in the folder, she saw the daughters’ names and birth dates and realized that this was Anne Frank’s father. Within the files are the letters and correspondence from Canton. The letters revealed for the first time that Otto Frank tried desperately to get his family out of war torn Holland in 1941, fifteen months before they went into hiding. 

There are three letters in the file that end the story. In June 1945, Julius appeals to the National Refugee Service’s Migration Department for assistance in contacting the Franks, having been mistakenly informed that the they were alive and living in Paris. A second letter comes to Julius in 1946. The National Refugee Service writes with information that Otto Frank is in Amsterdam, Edith is deceased, and the daughters are still missing. The final letter in February 1946 closes the tale, Julius informs the Refugee Service that he has found his brother-in-law in Amsterdam. Only Otto survived.  


The connection to Canton is an indelible reminder of the genocide that attempted to eradicate an entire people from this world. The house on High Street is a significant historical place where the hope and tenacity of Julius Hollander was crushed by world events and where even the most powerful were unable to intervene. Anne Frank’s words resonate to this very day. “Where there’s hope, there’s life. It fills us with fresh courage and makes us strong again. 


Julius Hollander's Immigration Papers

Julius Hollander's Draft Registration Card