October trip to New England

Way back in October, I took a seven-day work trip to New England with the team of historians and editors working with me on Documents, Volume 5 of the Joseph Smith Papers. The purposes of the trip were to research at various libraries and archives in Boston, and to get to know the lay of the land to understand Joseph Smith's 1837 trip to Salem and Wilford Woodruff's 1838 mission to Vinalhaven and North Haven islands in Maine. Along the way, we had a heck of a good time, especially once Michelle joined us on day 4. 

Flying in, I looked out the window just as we were going over the Finger Lakes in upstate New York. Palmyra is somewhere down there.

When we got into Boston Monday afternoon, we stopped by our hotel and then headed to the North End. We went to Union Oyster House (oldest restaurant in Boston and one of the oldest in America). I had swordfish and clam chowder. The mashed potatoes were the best part.

While we waited for a table, we headed over the Paul Revere house. Ashley brought a selfie stick along, which was most everyone's first experience with this miraculous invention. We all made fun of it but posed for it all the same, again and again.

It was fun to be back riding the T and wandering the streets of Boston. It was not so fun remembering what a terrible place Boston is to drive. At one point I had a New Englander give me the biggest eye roll I've ever seen when I made a u-turn in his neighborhood.

Tuesday morning we visited with the editors of the Papers of John Adams. They have some amazing offices in the Massachusetts Historical Society. We talked shop and they showed off some jaw-dropping documents.

Letters between Martha Washington and Abigail Adams.

Charles Francis Adams journal account of his visit to Nauvoo in 1844.

One of three original copies of the Treaty of Paris, ending the Revolutionary War. Original signatures and seals of John Adams, Ben Franklin, and John Jay.

After that we split up to different libraries to research. I ended up with the group at the Boston Public Library, where I researched 1840s newspapers on microfilm. I spent most of the next two days doing that, which sounds kind of boring, but was actually pretty fun. I found a few interesting things, like reports in June 1844 that Joseph Smith had come back from the dead. And the reading room was spectacular.

In this very spot in 2007, I received the phone call from Dave Willden offering me the job with the Joseph Smith Papers.

Tuesday evening we walked around the Public Garden and did most of the Freedom Trail.

Lack, Mack, Quack, and the rest of the gang.

Park Street Church. David R. Godine, where I interned in 2007, was right in front of this church.

We ended the night at an Italian place in the North End and then went to Mike's Pastries, which is apparently really famous. The lines were really long and it seemed half the fun was getting berated and hurried along by the servers. We took our pastry boxes, wrapped up with kite string, back to the hotel and had a communal dessert feast in the lobby. I got a chocolate-chip cookie, which was a disappointment, and a marzipan cannoli, which was basically the food of the gods.

The next morning we went out to Lexington and Concord. On the way there, Christian started getting really worried about his leg, which was swollen. He ended up going to the doctor, then home that same day, worried he had a cancerous growth. A week later he went in to surgery and they removed a football-sized non-cancerous tumor. It was something of a shock, to say the least. I think it was miraculous the way everything turned out, but we missed him on the rest of the trip.

While we got updates by phone from Christian, we explored the area. It's amazing how much U.S. history is packed into these little communities.

The Orchard House, where Louisa May Alcott wrote Little Women.

Old Manse, where Nathaniel Hawthorne wrote short stories and Emerson drafted "Nature." This is located right next to

North Bridge, where the shot heard 'round the world was fired.

And just down the road is Walden Pond of Thoreauvian fame. 

After that we drove back to Boston, past the temple in Belmont. We were going to park at the T station but learned that that's basically impossible in the late morning so we ended up driving to the Prudential Center and paying something like $60 for the privilege of parking. I also had to practice evasive maneuvers with some very aggressive valet parking guys, stalk someone back to their car, and execute an 18,000-point turn to get into this parking stall.

Mission accomplished.

That night we went to Harvard Square and had to have a major planning session, since Christian was the one who had planned the itinerary and was the specialist for Vinalhaven. We ultimately made just a few adjustments to the plan, but it was dicey there for a bit. It didn't help that the restaurant was lousy - the only bad food we ate the whole trip. Naturally, wandering around a used bookstore improved everyone's outlook.

That night there was a huge tourist group at the hotel, a bunch of old folks. We were on the elevator with a few of them, and something about the way they were talking made me feel like they were our kind of people. Lo and behold, they were from St. George! The group was on a church history tour with Glen Rawson. They asked who my parents were and definitely knew "not-too-tall Glenn Waite." Quite a coincidence. Later that night I talked to my dad and found out we had met Dale Larkin, the St. George temple president.

The next morning we headed over to Salem. We started at the Peabody Essex Museum reading room and found some interesting information about Joseph Smith's 1837 trip to Salem, including a letter from anti-Mormon biographer Fawn Brodie that put her in an unflattering light. Then we drove into town for lunch and sightseeing. When Michelle and I went to Salem back in the day with my folks, it was not a great time, so I had low expectations. Just like last time, parking was a mess, and I was prepared to have a terrible time in Salem, but it was actually awesome. We had lunch at Turner's Seafood, which is the old "Lyceum Hall." Sidney Rigdon preached here in company with Joseph Smith. And later it was the place where Alexander Graham Bell made the first telephone call. It was also the most delicious meal I ate the whole trip - some kind of fish with crab on top.

I discovered that the bathroom of said seafood restaurant was wallpapered with facsimiles of old documents. So of course Elizabeth made me go back in and take pictures. Luckily I wasn't arrested.

We walked around Salem, seeing the old Peabody Essex museum, which in Joseph Smith's day was called the "East India Marine Hall." At the reading room, we had seen the guest log that he and the others signed.

Then we went to Union Street, where the church leaders rented a house, probably because they were looking for hidden treasure. We didn't find the house or the treasure, but not for lack of looking.

When we got back to the parking garage, I realized I'd left the driver-side window completely rolled down, with our baggage in the trunk. Brilliant. Thank heavens nothing was gone. Then I went back to Boston and picked up Michelle. Leslie was kind enough to come along and navigate. When we pulled up to the passenger pickup, Michelle collapsed into the passenger seat and it was obvious she was not well. The combination of reading the whole way, sitting next to a very unpleasant-smelling neighbor, had left her quite ill. And unfortunately, we had several hours of driving ahead as we were going up to Joseph Smith's birthplace in Sharon, Vermont. We stopped several times along the way so Michelle could puke. At one point, Leslie got the key for an outside bathroom at a gas station, but she took one look at the bathroom and forbade Michelle from going in. Luckily there was a hotel across the street that Michelle snuck into and used the lobby bathroom.

We got to our hotel late that night and I tucked Michelle into bed, hoping the next day would go better.

She woke up feeling much better, and we headed over in the rain to the Joseph Smith birthplace site. It's a beautiful place, tucked up in the hills. The trees were just starting to turn.

Original hearthstone from the Smith home.

The obelisk was built in 1905. It's the largest cut piece of granite in... somewhere.

Me and Michelle took a golf cart ride up into the forest to see the ginseng they had planted. Joseph Smith Sr. went bankrupt when his business partner stole the money they made from growing the herb.

From there we drove several hours to the Maine coast. It was beautiful but very wet. Two signs were noteworthy:

Bear Crossing

Welcome to Maine, Michelle's favorite state!

We made it to Rockport in time to catch the ferry across to Vinalhaven. It was about an hour and a half crossing.


Two members of our group were prone to seasickness, and they got their money's worth. The regulars on the ferry said it was a bad day at sea - not the worst, by far, but bad. Ashley said that at one point they cut the engines and a little boy blurted out, "That means it's a big one!" and then the wave hit.

We started out inside on the benches, but most of us soon went outside, in the rain but at least the fresh air.

These next two pictures are my favorites of the trip. First we have Michelle with Leslie and Ashley, who seem to be having the time of their lives.

Then I turned to the side and snapped this picture of Brent and Elizabeth, ready to die. To their credit, neither lost their lunch.

We got to Vinalhaven around nightfall, and the owner of the inn we were staying at, the Tidewater, came and picked us up. In a school bus.

The Tidewater was a fantastic place. It sits right on the wooden bridge that separates Carvers Harbor from Carvers Pond, and the tide goes in and out day and night, right underneath the rooms.

This was the view from our room one morning, as I sat out on the deck answering emails.

The owner of the inn, Phil Crossman, was quite a character. He's written several books about life on the island, and his legal statement on the back of the motel room door was classic. He somehow got the idea that Brent's name was Mike, and he really liked Mike.

The island itself was basically a paradise. Beautiful woods and beaches, quaint village, and a small-town, nobody-locks-their-doors-and-everybody-uses-the-community-phone-and-fridge-in-the-Tidewater-lobby sort of place.

That evening, after we changed out of our soaking-wet clothes, we ate at the Harbor Gawker across the street, maybe the last night it will ever be open. The people running it were a hoot.

That night and the next, we all stayed up late chatting and playing games. It was a nice change of pace for two parents who are usually at home with kids at night. It was also fun to explore the nooks and crannies of the inn.

The next morning, Michelle and Ashley stayed behind to read on the deck while the rest of us ventured over to North Haven. That involved driving Phil's van to the north end of Vinalhaven, then waiting for the guy who's been running a skiff across the channel for something like 40 years.

It was freezing, but we saw a bald eagle. You can see the boat if you click on the picture. It was very small. A dog came along so Brent had to stand in the bow and hold a rope.

So the Mormon connection to the islands is that Wilford Woodruff served a mission there in 1837 and had quite a bit of success, leading a large number of people back to Nauvoo. The Joseph Smith Papers connection is that he wrote a couple letters to JS from the islands.

Our hosts and guides on North Haven were Nan and Hope of the local historical society. Hope actually had Mormon roots, having grown up in Utah. They drove us around and were fantastic.

This is the Dyer farm. When Wilford Woodruff arrived on North Haven, it was the middle of the night and he stumbled around in the dark until he found this farmhouse. They let him stay for the night. Still the original house.

Behind the house on the Dyer farm.

We did some research at the North Haven Historical Society, which has a beautiful facility. Nan and Hope had laid out all the relevant primary documents for Mormonism on the island, and Hope read a history she had written.

We also visited a Baptist church where Woodruff preached. At first the minister was friendly, but then not so much when Woodruff saw decent success in converting his congregation.

This is presumably the same pulpit he preached at.

I asked if I could play the pump organ, and Hope requested "Put Your Shoulder to the Wheel." LDS Music app FTW! Everyone sang along.

After lunch, we headed back to Vinalhaven. We stopped at Crockett's Cove, where several church members were baptized.

Then we hiked up to the Fox Rocks, where Wilford Woodruff dedicated the islands for the preaching of the gospel. There's apparently a plaque commemorating the event somewhere, but we didn't find it. We did find a spectacular view though.

When we got back, we found Michelle and Ashley making friends at the local bar. After stopping at the used bookstore and the ice cream shop, we borrowed bikes from the Tidewater and explored the area.

We went out to a nature preserve south of the harbor and looked for tide pools.

Then we pedaled over to the local cemetery and then drove to Lawson's Quarry, where I believe some of the granite for the Washington Monument was quarried.

That night we went to a local restaurant called Salt. It had closed for the season but opened special that night for finger foods. Half the town showed up, I think. Again, it was delightful for two young parents to sit through a luxurious and just talk and eat delicious food with friends for a couple hours. We haven't done that in a while.

By the way, I should say that the kids were champions while we were gone. Mike and Stephanie watched them part of the time, my mom watched them for part of the time, and Michelle's sister Brianna watched them for part of them, and we were very grateful to all of them. It was fun to call the kids every once in a while and see that they were doing just great without us. We did miss them though. When we got back in town, Asa had some major separation anxiety and I'm not sure he's completely over it.

The next morning (Sunday) we got up early and caught the ferry back to the mainland.

That is a real live lobster boat.

Beautiful fall colors on the way back to Boston.

After squeezing in one more delicious meal with the group (clam chowder all around and I finally had lobster, mixed in with mac and cheese) we parted ways with everyone else. They were flying home that evening, and Michelle and I stayed until the next morning.

First stop was our old neighborhood in Somerville. It was just about the same as when we left it eight years ago.

"Sudzy Sal's" laundromat where I spent a lot of quality time. Everyone who frequented this place, including the manager, was native Brazilian. It was always a lot of fun to talk to people in Portuguese. Once Michelle locked the keys in the Honda (still running), in the rain, right in front of the laundromat. This happened because the car had a glitch where whenever you closed the door it locked all the doors automatically. She called a locksmith, whose response was "You can't find anyone in Somerville who can break into a Honda Civic?!"

93 Pearl Street. Home, sweet home. Mouse-infested, sweltering, bed-bugged, urine-reeking, cockroach-overrun, mattress-on-the-floor, boxes-for-a-dresser, card-table-and-picnic-chairs-for-a-dining-room home. I got something like $300 in parking tickets on this street back in the day.

Our bedroom on the third floor.

Then we took the T to Brookline, where Michelle worked for Chuck and Janie Peden. Those guys helped us out so much, hiring us on the side for other jobs and once bringing us a box of food.

Mural where Michelle ate lunch.

We stopped at the Paris Creperie to feed Michelle's craving. Sometimes we wakes herself up at night screaming, "Frozen nutella hot chocolate!"

We saw the Boston marathon finish line and site of the bombings.

Then we went to the Public Gardens and Charles Street, bought souvenirs for the kids downtown, and wandered around parts of the Freedom Trail.

On my first day at David R. Godine, my job was to go the hardware store on Charles Street, buy some carpet tacks, and nail down an old rug. I forgot to get the receipt so when I got back to the office I had turn around and go back to the hardware store.

The old state house, where the Boston Massacre occurred.

We went to one more dinner in the North End and hung out in a cool park with giant porch swings, and then headed to the hotel to get some sleep before our 6:30 am flight. What a trip.