Broad Brook (and Beyond)

If you're a frequent driver of Connecticut back roads, you're probably familiar with the experience of suddenly coming upon an unexpected town or village. There's always something a little bit incredible about "discovering" an entire, fully realized place that's not far from where you live but that somehow has managed to elude you for years. I felt this way when I stumbled over North Stonington Village, and when a detour led me to the center of Chester, and when I first happened to drive through Broad Brook, one of the five villages that make up the town of East Windsor. No matter how many times it happens, I always feel slightly abashed for not knowing about the place earlier. But that feeling of shame is quickly eclipsed by one of "Hey, this should be a blog post!"

Because the building above really deserves to be in a blog post, don't you think? The former Ertel/Geissler Barber Shop, it used to be located on Main Street in Broad Brook until 1967, when it was moved to the grounds of the East Windsor Historical Society in Scantic.

The Historical Society's main museum is housed in this building, once the East Windsor Academy or Scantic Academy. (There's more about it on my Instagram account devoted to historic Connecticut schoolhouses.)

And then there's the wee East Windsor District Probate Court building, moved here from Warehouse Point. It was also apparently a doctor's office at one time. Like the barber shop, it was transported to its current location on the back of a truck.

The Historical Society grounds are also home to this barn, a reconstituted tobacco shed turned farm tool museum. The Grange sign once hung on the Academy building, when it was used as a Grange Hall.

In Broad Brook itself, the roadside curiosities continue. This is the Broad Brook Garage, an old gas station (front building) and auto repair shop (rear building.)

There's also the Broad Brook Library, built in 1919. The library's Facebook page describes the building as "unassuming" and says, "It is easy to pass the Broad Brook Library without even noticing it." I disagree; in fact, I distinctly remember that the first time I drove down Main Street in Broad Brook, I thought the library looked particularly adorable.

And of course there's the village's best-known attraction, the 1892 Opera House. The history of this building reads like a whirlwind tour of the history of business in Connecticut. It was built by the Broad Brook Woolen Company and the first floor was used as their showroom and shipping department until the 1920s, when it was occupied by an ice cream parlor, newsstand, shoe store, and post office. In the 1970s, it housed an insurance company. Meanwhile, the second floor was used for "operettas, stage plays, graduation exercises, minstrels, military balls, dances, card parties, basketball games, town meetings, election voting, and meetings for civil defense during World War II." In 2003, it became a theatre that is now used by the Opera House Players.

Across Depot Street from the Opera House, water from the Broad Brook Mill Pond tumbles over a dam and continues under Main Street. On the other side, it reappears as (you guessed it) Broad Brook, which eventually joins the Scantic River, which then empties into the Connecticut River, which bisects the state, passing other unexpected villages as it flows along.

When In Kent

JUST A GUITAR STORE. BECAUSE IT'S KENT.

The Size of Connecticut is about, as the header says, local destinations off the beaten path. This post is not about that. In fact, out of all the Town Center Strolls I've posted so far, Kent (along with Mystic) is possibly the most traveled. But sometimes one finds oneself in extremely popular destinations, and I couldn't let the opportunity for a blog post pass me by.

Kent used to intimidate me. The town, with a population of under 3,000, felt sophisticated yet rustic, blending the exclusivity of an upper-class suburb with the insularity of a small village. It always seemed that the sign at the town line reading "Kent Welcomes You" was not really directed at me.

These days I am not at all intimidated by Kent. It's a bit like the way objects which seem huge when you are small are revealed to be disappointingly medium-sized when you grow taller. The welcome sign is probably not for me, and I don't mind.

The thing is, Kent mostly just got lucky. It has a lot going for it: the preservation of Bulls Bridge, one of just a few covered bridges left in Connecticut; a stunning natural setting, full of steep hills and lush greenery; and a reputation for some of the best fall foliage in New England. It's home to two state parks, Kent Falls and Macedonia Brook. And the Appalachian Trail runs through it, meaning scruffy backpack-laden people who look like they just crawled out of the woods (because they just crawled out of the woods) co-exist, occasionally uneasily, with locals and New Yorkers weekending in the one part of the Connecticut countryside where they won't have to encounter people who don't care about New York. It also has self-consciously casual restaurants and oh-so-curated shops and numerous galleries, and there is art everywhere.

But as we all know, the lucky one is not always the best one, or the most deserving, or even the prettiest. Still, there's nothing you can do. You will go to Kent, because you can't not go there. Everyone goes there.

Now, I'm not saying there's anything wrong with Kent. I'm just suggesting that if you go there, don't let anyone tell you this is all northern Litchfield County has to offer. Take the opportunity to visit some of the less-traveled towns and villages of this beautiful area. The Secret Corner site is excellent if you want to plan what to do, and I have some ideas in my Litchfield County section as well. (Oh, and a word of warning to any drivers or cyclists who don't want to be surrounded by motorcycles on the lovely country roads: go during the week if at all possible.)

JUST A CPA'S OFFICE. BECAUSE IT'S KENT.

THE NEXT TRAIN WILL ARRIVE AT...OH YES, NEVER.

ART IS EVERYWHERE IN KENT. (THIS IS BY PETER WOYTUK.)

THE LIBRARY WAS HOLDING A TEMPTING BOOK SALE WHEN I TOOK THESE PICTURES.

THE SWIFT HOUSE DATES FROM THE 1780s.

THESE GUYS COULD PROBABLY BUY AND SELL YOU.

JUST A GARDEN DESIGN BUSINESS. BECAUSE IT"S KENT.

IN THE KENT VILLAGE BARNS SHOPPING CENTER.

FOREIGN CARGO ("A FASCINATING JOURNEY IN SHOPPING")

THE PRIMITIVE HOME

J.J. GROGAN'S ("PURVEYORS OF FINE THINGS")

WHERE RAILROAD STREET ENDS.

Scenic Route

When I have to go anywhere even slightly unfamiliar, I normally prefer to look up routes beforehand and write directions on scraps of paper. But occasionally, I give up and let the little voice inside the GPS tell me where to go.

She sounds level-headed, that little voice, like the type who would not be impressed by pretty scenery or send anyone home the long and circuitous way. And usually, she doesn't. But, like me, she sometimes throws caution to the wind.

This is when I find parts of Connecticut I never knew existed, though I could swear I've driven through them before. This is when I see state routes with unfamiliar numbers, and signs tacked to trees that say things like "Wake Up America!" and "We Buy Stone Walls."

Following the whims of the GPS voice when she's in this crazy mood, I pass villages that I've never heard of, villages that I suspect no one who doesn't live in them has ever heard of either. I discover tiny cottages clinging to the shores of lakes I couldn't name. Corn towers above my car as I drive, and sometimes chickens casually stroll along the shoulder.

On a drive like this I found a chapel in Andover, half hiding behind a much larger church. I stopped because I thought perhaps it was a schoolhouse, and it seems it was, for a while, when it wasn't being the library, Grange hall, or town meetinghouse.

The GPS voice was not happy when I turned around to see the chapel up close; it meant she had to re-do her entire plan. But it was all her fault. If she'd wanted a boring trip, she could have just sent me straight to the highway.

Bridgewater, Again

In February, I trudged through the snow to get a better look at the childhood home of Captain William D. Burnham in Bridgewater.

Last week, I finally was able to return and take a little walk around the center of Connecticut's only dry town.

Bridgewater is one of those Little White Buildings towns. This is the grange hall.

The Village Store is apparently the place to be on weekend afternoons.

Bridgewater also has something for street name aficionados. Of which I am one.

I imagine if anyone did something as crazy as actually sitting on this bench, heads would turn. But it is a very nice bench.

It wouldn't be a small Connecticut town without a white church. (Bridgewater has more than one of these, but this one, even half-hidden behind a tree, struck me as the nicest.)

The Burnham Library (yes, Burnham of the little house in the first photo) has quite the history.

This is the Elijah Peck House, now owned by the Bridgewater Historical Society. It contains an iron kitchen stove, a pair of wedding slippers from 1755, a Sturdevant spinning wheel, and a melodeon. Because that round porch wasn't enough.

No Sleep Till Brooklyn

In Brooklyn, this what law offices look like. Oh, sure, I bet they have a few slightly more contemporary-looking examples around somewhere, but I'm just going to pretend this is the only one. Remember the sheriff's office in Windham? This is the Law to that wee building's Order.

And this is the Old Brooklyn Meeting House, built in 1771, now a church.

This is the library. Built partly in 1821 as a bank, partly in 1826 as an insurance office.

And this is Town Hall. It used to be a courthouse. It stands at the center of a little intersection that would be confusing if there were ever any other cars.

But Brooklyn can't be entirely adorable, of course. At one time this area was terrorized by marauding wolves. They were, presumably, a bit more menacing in appearance than their representations on the sarcophagus of General Israel Putnam. Putnam, who famously instructed his men "Don't fire until you see the whites of their eyes" at Bunker Hill, is also famous locally for having killed Connecticut's last wolf in a den in what is now Mashamoquet Brook State Park in Pomfret.

There are other statues of Putnam in Hartford's Bushnell Park and Putnam Memorial State Park in Redding, but I particularly like the way this one looks out watchfully over Route 169, as if Putnam is making sure that more wolves (or the British) don't try to sneak past. Of course, at this point, if they did it would only be because they'd heard about how cute Brooklyn is.

(By the way, I just read somewhere that you should not name blog posts after songs. Oops.)

Notes on the State of Connecticut

Before I started this blog, I spent a few hours contemplating what to call it. One of my favorites was Nutmeg Poisoning, which I now use for my occasional Friday round-up posts. Another was Notes on the State of Connecticut. But I didn't think that would work as well in reality as it did in my own head. For one thing, it would look like I was trying to compare myself to Thomas Jefferson, but other than an obsession with the Lewis and Clark expedition and a remarkable capacity for self-delusion, he and I are really not alike at all.

So, what do Thomas Jefferson and his Notes on the State of Virginia have to do with the old Free Public Library building in Somers? 

Not much, honestly.

But one of my favorite facts about Somers is that a guy there - not just any guy, but the founder of Friendly's - is building a house with an exterior that's an exact replica of Monticello. Really. You can drive right past it. It looks like this. It's just south of the Massachusetts line, and it's hilarious.

Another amusing and odd bit of Somers trivia is that Little Sorrel, favorite horse of Confederate General Thomas Jonathan "Stonewall" Jackson, was born here. This fact is considered important enough for the town to include it on their blue sign. Jackson himself was born in...yes, Virginia.

The Library building is now a museum run by the Somers Historical Society. I'll defer to Steve of Connecticut Museum Quest for the history of the building and what's in it, because a) he's funnier than I am, and b) I've never been in it. I just like to randomly drive past it sometimes. (Northern Hartford County is the best for that.)

And since this post is just one random tangent after another anyway, I will add a PSA that Somers, CT, is not the same as Somers, NY. I recently confused the two, having forgotten that New York had a Somers. An excusable mistake, if I hadn't been there and written a blog post about it.

Woodbury

I couldn't do just the one post on Woodbury, because the town is absolutely full of the kind of stuff people from outside New England come to New England to stare at. And, apparently, the kind of stuff I stay in New England to stare at. (Pro tip: if you can't afford to go anywhere, it's best to live someplace pretty!)

Officially, Woodbury's thing is antiques. Not Putnam-style antiques, with huge multistory buildings containing wonderfully random bits and bobs and thingamajigs in a full range of prices, but, you know, antiques. (As my friends and I used to say growing up in Westport, make sure you get the sunscreen on the bottom of your nose, too.) There is a Connecticut Antiques Trail which consists entirely of Woodbury. Personally I think Putnam and Seymour and Collinsville should team up and arrange a protest to get in on that, but no one asks me about these things.

However, Woodbury also has much to offer people who are too broke to do anything but walk around. Yay for me!

Yes, that's another little (former) library in the first shot. The second building is really a pharmacy, not a leftover piece of a movie set. The third is yet another former library which was a school before that. The fourth is a municipal building called the Shove Building, which may or may not be fitting, I don't know anything about local Woodbury politics. And the last is, what else, a schoolhouse.

Three More Little Libraries

Connecticut has a Wine Trail and a Chocolate Trail and an Art Trail and a new Barn Trail (which I'm sort of excited about) and so many other trails that I lose track of them. So a Tiny Library Trail wouldn't be such a strange thing. From Pomfret to Windham, they are adorable. (And don't just take my word for it.) This picture of the one in Union is almost life-sized.

This one in Bethany is sort of an edge case. It probably wouldn't qualify, because there's a large modern library carefully concealed behind this front.

But on the other hand, these wreathed doors.

This one, in Naugatuck, is probably too much of a "real" library, and too large. But I'd include it, because it's pleasantly neoclassical and appears to be trying to hide behind these trees.

And because this literary detail - it goes all the way across - is too good to ignore.