Dispatches in Sandpaper: Send 20-Grit

Liz Reed is an Adult and Information Services Librarian at the Morrill Memorial Library in Norwood, Massachusetts. Read Liz’s column in the February 27, 2020 issue of the Transcript and Bulletin.

                When you buy a fixer-upper house, sooner or later you need to start fixing it up before it can feel like home. And if you’re fixing the place up on a shoestring budget, you find creative solutions and invest sweat equity wherever possible. You start by checking the low-hanging fruit off the punch list, tasks like spackling mysterious holes in the original window frames, replacing lightbulbs, and gingerly tucking the porch door screen back into its frame with a butter knife.

                Next you move onto jobs that are a bit more disruptive and take more time and resources, but that go a long way towards improving the look of the house. Painting is a great thing to do at this phase. Taping window frames and baseboards is a time consuming precursor to painting, but is very much worth it if the color of your paint is significantly different than the wood trim, if you’re trying to preserve the natural-wood look of that trim, or if you’re painting an accent wall.

Tomorrow’s Treasures

Brian DeFelice is the Information Technology Librarian at the Morrill Memorial Library in Norwood, MA and Anthony DeFelice Jr. is a retired U.S. Marine, antiques dealer, and accordion player in Plymouth, MA

My father recalls the time he was in the middle of an intense bidding war with another antique dealer over an item. He was in an auction house in Acushnet, Massachusetts and was sitting in the way back of the spacious barn that had been converted into an antique auction house. He was smoking a cigarette with the other smokers (it was the early 90s that was allowed back then!). Though he could not recall what the item he was bidding on was, he remembers he knew he wanted it for his antique store, but was being constantly outbid by another dealer who was in the front row of the auction house.

Meanwhile, I was in my usual stomping ground: the kitchen area, watching “Big Bill'' the auctioneer moderate the bidding war between my dad and the other bidder. I loved going to antique auctions with my dad because the people at the auction house treated me like a prince. Everyone was really nice and they would let me play with some of the (less valuable) antique toys, and Big Bill would let me have a cheeseburger on the house. To this day, my mom and I still talk about how good those cheeseburgers were. Big Bill was a presence. He was loud and totally in charge of the auction that night. I remember that for less valuable items, he would start the bid at $1 and would say “let’s start this bid at a bawk bawk bawk bawk” and start imitating and clucking like a chicken. I was seven at the time, and this silliness NEVER got old with me.

Tales from the Swamp

Charlotte Canelli is the library director of the Morrill Memorial Library in Norwood, Massachusetts. Read Charlotte's column in the February 13, 2020 edition of the Transcript & Bulletin.

           If you study a map of Florida, you'll see that most of the southern tip is a remote green wilderness with few roads or cities. Except for that significant development of cities and towns along both of Florida's southern coasts, there are just a few east-to-west highways that connect Boca Raton on the Atlantic to Naples on the Gulf. One of them, Highway 41, starts in a downtown neighborhood in Miami and veers north at Everglades City, bypassing Marco Island, skirts the Gulf Coast cities of western Florida, and then heads north to Michigan. This Tamiami Trail passes east from Miami to the west and north to Tampa. Along the Everglades, it is known as Alligator Alley, with one lane in each direction. Alligators, commonly seen in the waters near the highway, share this land along with hundreds of other animal and bird species.

           A more well-known highway, Interstate 75, skirts the northern parts of the Florida everglades and Big Cypress National Preserve. It travels through Fakahatchee Strand State Preserve before it, too, turns north through western Florida, before it reaches West Virginia forests and eventually crosses the land between the Great Lakes and ends at the Canadian border.
           Most travelers take either of these two routes across the vast glades of Florida. The hardier traveler, however, travels southwest from Homestead, passing through Everglades National Park along State Highway 9336 and deep into the swamp at the southernmost tip.  Those riskier adventure-seekers can then go to the ghost town of Flamingo, or travel along the 99-mile Everglades Wilderness Waterway. This watery land is also known as the Marjory Stoneman Douglas Wilderness. It is only accessed by kayak, canoe, and shallow-draft powerboats through a system of interconnected creeks, rivers, bays, and lakes. It is recommended that boaters relying on paddles plan eight days to travel – one of the passes is navigable only at high tide.
           The Florida Everglades was originally a 14,000-square mile expanse. Through a series of diversions, the Everglades has shrunk to 4,000 square miles. The 1.5 million acres known as Everglades National Park protects the 20% of the original area.
            While most of the America's national parks are established to preserve the beautiful and unique geography of the United States (such as Yellowstone, the Grand Canyon, Death Valley) the Everglades National Park was created to protect a fragile ecosystem. Lake Okeechobee to the north feeds a river that flows through the glades into Florida Bay. I had always envisioned the Everglades as a dark and murky, wet and wild place much like a rain forest. Instead, I have learned it is a flowing river and provides a perfect habitat for the American crocodile and other reptiles such as alligators and snakes, the Florida panther, the West Indian manatee, 350 species of birds and hundreds of types of fish.
           In 1882 the first plans to drain these Florida wetlands began as somewhat well-intentioned uses for agricultural and residential development. At that time, Miami was merely an eastern outpost. Once a land inhabited by the Tequesta – a Native American tribe that occupied this area along the southeastern Atlantic coast – missionaries and colonists were attracted to the land and its long growing season.  When railroad tycoon Henry Flagler connected the Florida East Coast Railway to Miami, the population of the town was a bit over 300. After World War II, Miami's population soared to nearly 500,000, similar to what it is today. However, the northern and southern metropolis of Miami boasts over 6 million residents, the seventh-largest in the United States.
           Fortunately for Florida, environmentalists intervened well before this population boom to protect the vanishing Everglades. The foremost of those was Marjory Stoneman Douglas.
           Many of us are familiar with the name Marjory Stoneham Douglas. On Valentine's Day two years ago, a deranged gunman killed 17 children and adults at the Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland, Florida. That school had opened on Douglas' 100th birthday in 1990. An elementary school in Miami-Dade County is also named after her, along with a municipal building, and a 15-minute orchestra piece, Voice of the Everglades. But, there is so much more to attribute to Douglas, including saving the Everglades.
           Marjory Stoneman Douglas has roots in New England that I never knew until my Everglades reading began. While she was born in 1890 in Minneapolis, after the divorce of her parents at age six she moved to her mother's family home in nearby Taunton, Massachusetts. At the age of 17, she won a Boston Herald prize for a short story. A stellar reader, writer and student, she left home for Wellesley College at the age of eighteen and graduated in 1912.
            Several years later, after the death of her mother, (and a failed marriage to a scoundrel named Kenneth Douglas) she moved to Florida. There she began writing for a newspaper that her father published – later to be named the Miami Herald. It was through her journalistic voice that Marjory began changing the history of Florida.
           Her early activism included women's suffrage and public health. Her efforts turned to environmentalism early in the 1920s when she was in her thirties when she joined the board of the Everglades Tropical National Park Committee. In 1947, she wrote The Everglades: River of Grass, the essential book written about the Everglades.
           The story of Florida, the terrible mismanagement of natural resources, the Big Sugar pollution of Lake Okeechobee, the rampant abuse of the land, and the corruption of politicians, is a larger story than this column can begin to describe. Yet, the work of Marjory Stoneham Douglas has saved a portion of the Florida Everglades for generations to enjoy.    
           If you are interested in learning about this magical wilderness and its rescue, read The Swamp: The Everglades, Florida, and the Politics of Paradise (2007) by Time correspondent Michael Grunwald.  In another great book, Liquid Land: A Journey through the Florida Everglades (2004), author Ted Levin describes his many journeys through the Everglades, with profiles of those who attempted to coerce or steal the Everglades for development - and those who have worked to win it back.
           If you want a serious, and sometimes hilarious, account, read Hodding Carter's Stolen Water: Saving the Everglades from Its Friends, Foes and Florida (2005). It's a great way to begin an education into the story of Florida and the abuse of its land, particularly the Everglades wilderness.
           Jack E. Davis' biography of Marjory Stoneman Douglas, An Everglades Providence (2009), is a 700-page tome dedicated to the virtues and actions of this amazing woman. In 1993, five years before her death at age 108, Marjory was awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom, the highest civilian honor granted by the United States. The citation read "Grateful Americans honor the Grandmother of the Glades by following her splendid example in safeguarding America's beauty and splendor for generations to come."

            A lovely children's picture book biography will be published this September. Marjory Saves the Everglades will be an important book to share with every young environmentalist. As Marjory and other preservationists cry, "The Everglades is a test. If we pass, we get to keep the planet."

           

New Year, New Me?

In my last article, I claimed I avoid New Year’s resolutions like the plague. Now that we’re a month into 2020, I have changed my tune.  My motto has also been “All things in moderation” and I think I can apply that to the “new year, new me” spirit of January. I’ve correctly observed I’ll never be the type to make a massive change on January 1st but I could be the sort of person who makes small changes which add up to a sizable difference over the year.

Instead of “resolution,” I choose to use the term “modification.” This term is less radical and scary than resolution and thus, makes my goals feel more attainable. I’m not resolving to undertake a new lifestyle, I’m just making a few adjustments to the one I already have. I also try to stay away from trends when considering little changes at the start of the year. It seems like the Internet is always ready to champion the latest health or diet fads along with the best way to organize your time, be happier, less stressed, a more effective parent, a better employee, etc. The self-help industry is booming and librarians certainly see this reflected in the demand for books on this topic. Librarians are constantly fielding requests for books on how to improve your life and updating our self-help collection with new titles.