Thursday, September 17, 2015

Chapter 28 Memoirs/Cavendish Post WWII.

This is the last chapter of Coming to Vermont (Cavendish): Memoirs of Philip Tiemann The added feature pertains to post WWII Cavendish and includes what happened to Philip and Isabel.

If you have appreciated the serialization of the Tiemann Memoirs, you can show your support by sending a donation to the Cavendish Historical Society, PO Box 472, Cavendish, VT 05142.

On Oct. 11, the Annual CHS Cemetery Tour will be to the Center Road Cemetery where the Tiemanns are buried, complete with stones from the Windy Hill property. Meet at the CHS Museum at 2 pm.

For the prelude and links to all of the chapters go to Coming to Vermont (Cavendish): Memoirs of Philip Tiemann.  

On January 15, 1941, I changed from farmer's blue jeans to the Army olive drab for a year's extended active duty. The year stretched to more than five before I again put 'on civvies.

Crammed into this period were enough experiences for a lifetime, most 'of them satisfying but a few, Inevitably, not. At Fort Riley, after brief refresher training, I helped to receive and then train the first contingent of cavalry replacement recruits under the Selective Service Act. In August, foreseeing the end of the cavalry, by my own application I was transferred to the Armored Force and went to the Replacement Center at Fort Knox, Kentucky, to spend over a year as company com­mander and battalion commander (major) training more and more troops. It was a life I enjoyed to begin with, but was not to my liking after we entered the war.

Then unexpectedly . as such things seemed usually to happen to me-I was assigned to the 10th Armored Division in training at Fort Benning, Ga., which, following maneuvers in Tennessee, was slated soon to go to Europe. At this time I was a lieutenant colonel and due to command a tank batt­alion. But no such luck. Again with great suddenness I was sent on "tem­porary duty" to Headquarters 2d Army at Memphis to act as an assistant Army Inspector General. This was the low point; I felt completely frustrated and out of place and was unable to do anything about it. Except, finally, in order to make an uncertain status secure, a transfer to The Inspector General's Department, which I accepted with the best grace I could, It wasn't what I wanted yet it was no come-down (the I. G. Department is top-drawer) and I saw more of the Army than would have been pos­sible under any other circumstances, It involved trips over half of the United States as the "eyes" of the Commanding General, making inspections and investigations and rendering lengthy reports. Then in the spring of 1944 while away from Headquarters I received orders to return post haste, This could mean only one thing, I had been assigned to the cadre of the newly activated 8th Army, which was to prepare immediately for overseas movement, Not to Europe, as I had fondly expected, but to New Guinea in the Pacific, from whence the American 6th and 8th Armies would take part in MacArthur’s return to the Philippines, As an Army Inspector I roamed widely before being transferred to the 43d Infantry Division as I. G. With this fine combat outfit I participated in the liberation of Luzon after making an amphibious landing at Lingayen Gulf.

While I was in the States the family was with me as much as possible, The children’s education was the governing factor. They came out to meet me at Fort Riley in a fine new Nash, which Isabel had somehow managed to negotiate and we spent a most pleasant week seeing the country on the way to Fort Knox. After a couple of exceedingly hot months there in "quarters" (a euphemism for two tiny rooms in a converted barracks) Isabel located a comfortable apartment in near-by Louisville where the family spent the winter . and where we were together the Sunday when the fateful announcement of the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor came over the radio. This of course changed the entire picture and intensi­fied training. But I was able to secure a short leave, just as the children’s school ended and we all returned to Windy Hill, the family re­maining for the summer.

In the fall I secured nice quarters on the main Post at Knox and they came down again,. only, within six weeks, to be uprooted for the transfer to Fort Benning, There we were well off in­deed, in a commodious house on the main Post with pleasant surroundings, the only difficulty being that the division training area was situated several miles away,- a relatively minor matter. We had a happy winter together.

Wyeth graduating from high school in Columbus, and than we again went home. I rejoined the division in the Tennessee maneuver area. The family found a place in Brattleboro where the girls could go to school. That fall Wy was inducted into the Army, having persuaded them to waive his defective vision, - I saw them all at Easter and again briefly before going overseas, - The next fall Isabel and Joyce went to Boston Isabel to train as an occupational therapist,- and Ann commenced two years at Green Mountain Junior College in Poultney, Vermont.

What had in general been a very fulfilling period of service was marred at the end when I became ill and was evacuated back to the States, But this was in July of 1945 after the campaign had ended. Following long recuperation in several hospitals with brief visits with the family I had the satisfaction of being promoted Colonel, given terminal leave, and was finally relieved from active duty in May, 1946,

My government service was not entirely over, however. My health still was uncertain, and not having energy enough to resume farming I accepted a temporary position with the Office of Price Administration, working out of Montpelier. This proved most unsatisfactory, partly because I was unwell but more because the work was not in my line. The agency had outlived its usefulness, and some of the time we did not have enough to do to justify drawing our pay. It was a relief when it came to an end in December.

In the meantime the family had to do some adjusting. Isabel was heading the OT department of a hospital in Providence. Joyce was with her, going to secretarial school. Ann still was at Green Mountain. Wyeth came back in April following service in the combat engineers in both Europe and the Pacific, and was discharged at Fort Devens. After taking some summer courses in Providence he entered Norwich University.

We all spent Christ­mas together in Providence, Then it was arranged so that Isabel and Joyce remained in Providence until Joyce graduated in June, and I came back to Windy Hill to work on the house, During the spring I installed elec­tric wiring, and the power line at last came thru; so when the family reassembled for the summer we had more comfort and conveniences than ever before. This homecoming in 1947 was what really brought the war period to an end.

Hampshire Sheep
Cavendish Post WWII:  When Philip Tiemann returned to Cavendish, he began raising pure-bread Hampshire sheep for breeding stock. This proved to be more profitable than his earlier subsistence farming.

He had been a selectman in 1941 and soon became active again in community affairs. Isabel died in 1958 and Tiemann died in 1969, having written these Memoirs in 1966.

Electricity final came to the back roads of Cavendish in the late 1940s. The Center School, which the Tiemann children attended, was wired for electricity in 1947, with most of the houses along the Center Rd receiving power in 1948. One of the last areas to be wired was the Knapp Pond area. Jim Hasson, a WWII Seabee, reports that they didn’t have electricity until 1949.

While most of Cavendish’s servicemen returned, the prosperity of the first half of the 1940s was replaced with significantly fewer job opportunities. Neither the mills nor the machine shops needed more workers and in fact slowed down considerably from the feverish war years. Many veterans were content not to return to the mills and machine shop jobs. The noise of the Gay Brothers Mill was considerably, with the clack of the looms being heard up and down the village streets. Deafness was a common risk for those who worked any length of time in the weave room. 
Gay Brother's Mill

Gaymont Mills in Ludlow, owned by the Gay Brothers and managed by L. Stearns Gay of Cavendish, was sold in 1950. In 1951, the building was purchased by General Electric and a number of Cavendish residents went to work there. That same year, Gay Brothers Mill closed and was sold to F.C. Hyuck and Sons and renamed Kenwood Mills. This mill lasted until 1957.

The ranks of the American Legion swelled with the returning veterans. The Legion bought the Opera House (now Crows Bakery) in Proctorsville  and the vets went about the business of “catching up” on the life they missed.

Because sports team was a big part of the community, in 1948, Dr. H.J. Greven deeded his eight-acre filed to the Proctorsville Fire Department. Volunteers put in a baseball diamond, bleachers, and more to create a community recreational field, which remains in use to the present day.

Thursday, September 10, 2015

Chapter 27/WWII in Cavendish

Following Chapter 27 is what Cavendish was like during WWII. For the prelude and links to all of the chapters go to Coming to Vermont(Cavendish): Memoirs of Philip Tiemann.

Meantime life had gone on, as it always seems to. I refused to concede that I wouldn’t be unable to go on active duty if so ordered. Hence while attempting to recover my health I also was making every possible preparation for leaving the farm for an undetermined period. How the situation pertaining to the family might develop, I was very uncertain: I could not take them with immediately if I should join the Army, but hoped to they might be able to follow me later. In the interim the position might not be easy. Wyeth was all right, as he was away, in mid-term of his second year at Mount Hermon school. But Ann was in first year High at Ludlow and had to walk a mile and a half to where she could meet the bus; Joyce still was going to the little school down the road; and this left Isabel at the farm by herself except for such time as the girls were at home. Yet there was no effort to dissuade me from what I felt I had to do; their chief worry I'm sure was for me. I was proud of them.

To the relief of everyone I was able to dispose of the livestock except for one cow and some hens. Crops were good so a reasonable supply of food was on hand. My Army pay would provide a much more adequate income then we had been accustomed to for a long time. So my main concern was for the family's physical comfort and well-being, especially during the winter. Problems were bound to arise. However, my nearest neighbor re­assured we that he would "keep an eye on things" and I was confident he would.

At least I'll try to leave you a bathroom" I promised Isabel. So during the fall of 1940 I bent every effort to this end. Our plan to have a toilet and lavatory between living room and kitchen still seemed good so I set about it. The biggest problem was the water supply, I had the idea- to mount a good-sized tank within the partition between bath and kitchen, so it could serve both. It would not have to be any higher than the present pipe from the spring, the flow would be constant as protection against freezing, and an overflow would take water to the trough out by the barn. The only feature I was unsure of was the amount of pressure needed to make the toilet flush properly, but I figured this out very carefully: when the storage tank was moderately full .a lead from the bottom to the toilet tank should fill the latter without dif­ficulty, Then I made a sketch of the proposed tank with its several con-sections for the various pipes (toilet, lavatory, and kitchen sink, in addition to the inflow and overflow) and took it to the neighborhood plumber. I carefully explained what I wanted,- a strong copper lined box of the needed capacity, with fittings,- and left it with him with trepidation as it obviously was something never heard of before!

Then while awaiting delivery of septic tank, pipe, and bathroom fixtures (coming from a mail-order house) I went to a lumberyard and bought some two-by-fours with which to build the partition. Here I made a serious error for which I suffered both immediately and later on,- not being able to find any seasoned wood I was talked into accepting none freshly sawed hemlock. The stuff began to warp even before I put it up, and con­tinued to twist out of shape even when nailed in place. It also was hard and tended to split. I used it only because I was in a hurry...and lost hours in the end. As if this wasn’t enough bother, before the septic tank came it began to rain and it seemed as tho it never would stop. Between wet spells I dug a hole- a 600 gallon tank takes quite a hole- and it filled with , water which had to be baled out. The tank arrived, I set it in the hole, and before I could anchor it there was more rain, the hole filled and the tank floated. So, it had to come out again. Sides of the hole caved in. But, eventually, the job was done, the soil pipe from the house and the outlet pipe to drain off effluent were in place, the lid put on the tank and the whole thing well covered with tramped earth.

This was accomplished just in time, as the season was advanced and the ground commenced to freeze. So with great relief I shifted operations to indoors. The plumber delivered the water supply tank (without comment) (and almost according to plan); so I constructed the frame of the double partition with the tank in place, and then finished the interior of the bathroom with rough wallboard and a door. The kitchen side was left open until the pipes could be installed.

But now time ran out: It was nearing Christmas. My orders had come,. I was to report to Fort Ethan Allen on 15 January for physical and so en route to Fort Riley, Kansas. And we had made up our minds to go “home” for the holiday to see our families, not knowing when we might have another opportunity (we never did.) To complicate matters we were even more broke than usual,

With a do-or-die spirit we told our people to expect us. Then a couple of days before Christmas we loaded the car and headed south, still with no money, But in Brattleboro I went to a jeweler's with the gold hunting. case of a very good watch of my father’s (wondering if I would be suspected of being a pick=pocket) and converted it into sufficient cash for the trip. It was not an easy thing to do, as Father had purchased that watch with his small savings upon his return from the Civil War; but I always have been so glad that I did. We saw all of our people and some friends and had a very happy time..,,

We were favored by the weather, and returned to Windy Hill without run­ning into any trouble. There, in the rush of getting ready to join the Army, I managed to find time to see my plumber friend and ask him, to complete the bathroom job, He agreed to this with some reluctance, but was as good as his word; and not long after I arrived at Fort Riley one of Isabel's letters announced with glee that the bathroom was being used and was just fine, "You can take a bow," she told me, "When Mr. -- had everything connected and the tank had filled up, he flushed the toilet - and I wish you could have seen him! He really was funny when he said "The damn thing does work!" - I admit to considerable relief. If it hadn't worked it would have made such a beautiful neighborhood story,..I never would have dared to go home.

Cavendish WWII Veterans speaking to the 6th graders at CTES
From L to R: Seymour Leven, Carmine Guica and Jim Hasson
Cavendish During WWII: If you talk to some of the town’s older residents, they will assure you that “the war years,” was the heyday of Cavendish. Needless to say, World War II was a common cause that everyone could and did rally around, plus everyone had at least one job, if not two, so the financial situation was much improved from the 1930s “Great Depression” years.

One hundred and sixty-eight (68) men and one woman served in every branch of the armed services and in nearly every area where American soldiers, sailors and flyers were sent. The only woman, Imogene Baxendale served as an Army nurse. Six men were killed in action and several were wounded.

Every one was involved in war relief, from the youngest child collecting scrap to the oldest residents, who knitted or served as look out in the spotter towers. Even if you had another job, you still worked a shift at Gay Brothers Mill, which had signed a union contract with Local 261 of the Textile Workers Union of America, in order to get Government contracts.

Gay Brothers, described as “the chief war industry of our town” had 300 people working, producing 30,000 yards of woolen blankets, Navy uniform cloth and Khaki flannels each week for the United States Government. With 37% of the workers serving in the military, women went to work to fill their slots along with men working second jobs and all high school students over 16 were asked to work at the mill whenever possible.

Proctor Reel and Shook company moved its machinery from New Jersey into the old Black Bear Mill in Proctorsville and employed about 50 people for their government contract. The company made, among other items, the large wooden reels for electric or telephone wire. Springfield machine shops trained women for the workforce as jobs became vacant as men left for war.

Life on the farm for Carmine Guica
who served in the Pacific.
In addition to knitting for soldiers, attending preparedness workshops, and donating blood, Civil Defense was very active. Residents were telephoned and told the date of air raid drills (black outs). Streetlights were turned off at the scheduled time and anyone outside, including motorists, were asked to take cover in the nearest building. Blinds and “black out” drapes served to keep light from shinning through. The idea was that enemy planes couldn't target what they couldn't see, and that any light visible from above could attract bombs and gunfire. Drills were held regularly, with air raid wardens patrolling the villages and farms to make sure that lights were out and shades drawn.

Because of its proximity to “Precision Valley,” the town was considered to be in a high-risk area for bombing by the Germans. Consequently, Cavendish maintained three spotter towers that were staffed 24 hours a day, seven days a week.

The towers were located on the Duttonsville School Hill and across from Moonlite Meadows Farm (Ting’s Farm) on East Road in Cavendish and at the end of what is now called Blood Terrace off of Maple Street in Proctorsville. Women, sometimes with their children, high school students and men not in the service, worked in two-hour shifts. Spotters learned to identify both friendly and enemy airplanes and how to report any aircraft they saw. All of the spotting towers were made of wood with walls lined with identification charts. In addition to spotter training workshops, adults and groups like the Boy Scouts, were issued playing cards to be used regularly to help with aircraft identification.

After the war, when the German’s bombing list for American sites was discovered, Springfield was not only in the “top 10” but ranked as number six. Clearly Cavendish had reason to be cautious.

The children were as equal participants as their parents. They helped by:
• Tending Victory gardens
• Babysitting younger siblings since more Moms were working
• Assisted with metal and meat fat drives-the latter was used for ammunition
• Collected milkweed pods-the silk was used to fill life vests
• Purchased saving stamps and participated in war bond rallies
• Girls would “do their bit and knit” socks and other items for servicemen.

Rationing went into effect in 1942 with sugar, meat, butter, lard and coffee being the main foods rationed. There was a lot more reliance on maple sugar during the war years and butter was available to those who had cows. However, many still recall the awful flavor of margarine and the yellow packet of dye sold to help make the color consistent with that of butter. The rationing was such that in 1944, the Sunshine Society voted not to serve the annual Town Meeting Day lunch due to a combination of rationing and lack of volunteers.

When gasoline rationing went into effect, many Cavendish residents traveled by train as much as possible as tires were also in short supply.

On April 11, 1945, Eleanor Roosevelt visited the high school in Chester, Vermont, which some Cavendish students attended. The graduating class, having earned and collected the money for a trip to New York City or Washington, had given this up and decided instead to do something useful with the money which would carry out the motto of the class—"To Work Towards A Just and Durable Peace." They made me an honorary member of the class, presented me with the check and left it to me to suggest what they should do. At the luncheon following the ceremony they voted to accept my suggestion that they buy war bonds and, when the war is over, use the money to give some boy or girl a scholarship for study either here or abroad which would increase the understanding between nations. My Day Eleanor Roosevelt A day after her visit to Chester, Franklin Roosevelt died in Warm Springs, GA.

When the war ended in Europe V-E day, May 8, the celebration was subdued. However, when V-J Day (Japan’s surrender) came,  August 14, Mill whistles and church bells were sounded from about 7 pm until midnight.

Seymour Leven on duty in the Pacific Theater as a gunner for a bomber
Learn more about Cavendish WWII Veterans

Thursday, September 3, 2015

Memoirs Chapter 26/Tiemann Photograph

Following Chapter 26 is a photograph of the Tiemanns as they appeared in 1954. For the prelude and links to all of the chapters go to Coming to Vermont (Cavendish): Memoirs of Philip Tiemann.

Altho I continued to be very much occupied with farming and with town business, a grimmer - gradually becoming predominant - interest filled my thoughts and took an increasing amount of time, beginning soon after that early September evening in 1939 when we sat out on the terrace listening to the radio reports of Hitler's onslaught in Poland. It was not unexpected; I had been closely following the steady increase in Ger­many's might and her encroachments on other neighboring states. But now for the first time the bluff (as it had boon to start with, but no longer proved) was called by the entry of England and France into the lists, I felt in my bones that history would repeat itself and that the United States would sooner or later be forced out of her neutralist attitude into the role of combatant, However, I never envisioned a two-ocean war nor foresaw our entry would be brought about by Japanese aggression.

I have told of being in the Officers' Preserve Corps, training of which heretofore had been very sketchy due to the parsimony of Congress. If an officer wished to remain on an active status he was supposed to attend camp with his unit, -14 days of training at intervals of two or three years, and to complete at home a certain minimum of subjects in the Army Correspondence Courses. This too would qualify him, in time, for promotion. It was not very stimulating and I, for one, 'applied my­self to it only off-and-on, hence did not qualify for the grade of cap­tain until the spring of 1938. Also a practical test must precede promotion, and for this I had to go to Norwich University in Northfield which was noted for its cavalry ROTC, Following questioning by the regular Army instructors I was supposed to put a mounted unit thru drill and a minor tactical exercise. Arrangements of course were made in ad­vance, and late in the winter on the day assigned I drove up to Northfield. It was fair but cold. The three-hour trip did not bother me, as I was elated at the thought of winning a promotion. The first phase went well enough, but then it was discovered that for some reason the only "troops" available were members of the mounted band, and even they were taken unawares. But they gamely volunteered to help out and put on a very creditable show, The instructors were cooperative, and so I managed to qualify altho feeling both dissatisfied and let down.

Nor was that the end of my troubles. As I was leaving for the return trip, it commenced to snow and soon it turned into a blizzard. Going more and more slowly I made it to Cavendish about dark and then slid into the ditch going up Langworthy Hill [Wiley Hill] (my nemesis on so many occasions) and discovered I had a flat tire. I was really stuck, so left the car and stumbled the rest of the way home thru deepening snow.

As other reached the same conclusions I had regarding the future, interest picked up and the Regular officers supervising the ORC [Officers Reserve Corps] put pressure on us to augment our training. Cavalry officers in Vermont were organized into the Third Squadron, 316th Cavalry. I have a copy of Special Orders No. 1, dated 13 February 1939, making assignments of 108 officers (due to the large number, many were on an “attached” basis) and signed by myself as squadron adjutant.

Several times small groups of officers gathered at Northfield on weekends for tactical rides and military palaver. Quite a number in the squadron were alumni of Norwich, including Captain Ernest Gibson, Jr. who I believe also was a trustee of the University, and these made the arrangements, - The squadron commander, Major Brainerd, kept in touch with us all from Montpelier. - Official correspondence increased. At the behest of our Army adviser in Rutland, upon whom I called a couple of times, I accepted appointment (really an order!) as town chairman under the Windsor County Civic Committee, and organized a Citizens' Com­mittee composed of the heads of the various Cavendish businesses and other local organizations. While this committee held a few meetings, it was a struggle against inertia, as some of the members were inclined to pooh-pooh the prospect of becoming involved in the war. At best it laid the groundwork for active participation by the town when war came. - I was invited by the Legion to be guest speaker on Memorial Day, which was a perfect opportunity to emphasize the growing seriousness of the situa­tion and the country's military needs. - Following this I had no diffi­culty in getting the other selectmen to join in publishing a proclama­tion calling for support of proclamation calling for support of preparedness and urging and qualified you men to enlist in the United States Army.

The squadron went to Fort Ethan Allen in June, 1940 for two weeks of very intensive training, becoming acquainted with the Garand rifle and the .50 caliber machine-gun mounted in an armored scout-car, all recent developments. I vividly remember the night when we gathered around radios in quarters to 1isten to President Roosevelt and heard him castigate Mussolini for the "stab in the back" when Italy attacked France, already defeated by Germany; the grim reality was coming home to us all, Then trying to banish gloom, we wound, up with a fine party and moonlight cruise on Lake Champlain on the good old "Ticonderoga", - our final get-together as a reserve unit. I'm only sorry I don’t know how many of those fine men served in the war, and how many died. Certainly the maj­ority went as individual officers and did their bit. But the Reserve units: as such never were called, and the old horse cavalry went out of existence.

After returning home I got together a small group of local officers to meet periodically at the CCC camp on Okemo Mountain in Ludlow. The object of course was to increase our military knowledge, and I think our earnestness of purpose made up for our lack of professionalism. We kept it up until travel conditions got bad in the fall.

I' was slowed down considerably by an unhappy corollary to the summer training when I developed very painful hip and back trouble resulting, presumably, from a spill I took toot when riding.. Neither my doctor nor an osteopath were able to give relief. It became so had that I had to get up at night and go outdoors and try to walk it off. Then I spent over a week at the Veterans' Administration hospital at White River Junction with no success. The battle for Britain was just at its height and as I lay in bed listening to the radio reports my spirits were at very low ebb. Then, to make it even worse, Congress passed the bill setting up Selective Service and mobilizing the National Guard and the Reserve. What to do?? The doctors decided, nothing, and sent for Isabel to come and take me home. "He'll have to get along the best he can."

The situation was saved in an unlikely way by the same brother-in-law who had been of so much help during our early days on the farm. After visiting with us for a few days he practically dragged me back to Long Island with him ("You can at least see the World's Fair") and introduced me to a masseuse (of all people) who had made some marvelous back cures. This chap examined me carefully, put me on his table, gave me a half-hour's manipulation,- and I walked out of his office a new man. And I did spend all the next day enjoying the Fair! And had no further trouble.

Came the climax when I received a wire from Captain Gibson (then taking his recently deceased father's seat in the Senate in Washington): "Chief of Cavalry Office requesting orders for you to go to Replacement Center Fort Riley extended active duty one year as of January 15th. Wire..."

And that was how a good many of us from the 3rd Squadron of the old 316th Cavalry cane to meet again. Fort Riley was the seat of The Cavalry School, It was a long way from Fort Ethan Allen.

Phillip and Isabel Tiemann: This photograph of the Tiemanns was taken in 1954, for their daughter Joyce, who was in England and couldn't be home for Christmas.

The dog is "Carbo" and a "very special pet," according to Joyce.

Isabel hooked the rug on the floor and she most likely found the rocker at an auction and then painted and stenciled it. Joyce still has it in her apartment living room.

Recently, when asked about her memories of Isabel, Sandra Stearns, author of "Cavendish Hillside Farm,"   noted, “I remember she was one of the few women with a drivers license. She use to drive my mother around.”

Tuesday, September 1, 2015


There are probably few readers in our area that aren’t aware of Phineas Gage, the railroad foreman, who on September 13, 1848, had a tamping rod pass through his head as a result of a blasting accident, and lived for 12 more years. What people may know less about is Dr. John Martyn Harlow, the Cavendish, VT physician who treated him and followed his recovery, thereby documenting the first case of traumatic brain injury in the medical literature.

Harlow’s training in antiphlogistic therapy (preventing or relieving inflammation) was important to Gage survival. But what happened to him when he left Cavendish in 1857?   Was he really the “obscure country doctor,” as he referred to himself? 
Dr. John M. Harlow

Learn more about Dr. Harlow at the Cavendish Historical Society’s annual Phineas Gage Walk  & Talk, which takes place on Sept. 13 at the CHS Museum, Route 131 in Cavendish, VT. The program begins at 2 pm at the Museum. The walk includes the location of the accident, Dr. Harlow’s home/surgery, and the boarding house where Gage was taken after his injury.

This program is free and open to the public. For more information, please call 802-226-7807 or