Archive of a bi-weekly newspaper column on vernacular architecture, written for the Lawrence, MA Eagle-Tribune, from 1988-1999. In 1994, the column received a Massachusetts Historic Preservation Award.
A Note of Thanks
This column would not exist if Dan Warner, editor of the Eagle-Tribune, hadn't taken a chance on me and my ideas.
Features editor Mary Fitzgerald then helped shape the column by giving me 2 rules: Remember that the Sunday paper is entertainment, and use only one word per column which has to be looked up in a dictionary. I am deeply grateful for Mary's superb guidance in suggesting that we add maps, encouraging me to keep rewriting when I floundered, and especially supporting me when I began to write about the whole Valley.
In 1999, I stopped writing the column in order to devote more time to my aging parents.
Features editor Mary Fitzgerald then helped shape the column by giving me 2 rules: Remember that the Sunday paper is entertainment, and use only one word per column which has to be looked up in a dictionary. I am deeply grateful for Mary's superb guidance in suggesting that we add maps, encouraging me to keep rewriting when I floundered, and especially supporting me when I began to write about the whole Valley.
In 1999, I stopped writing the column in order to devote more time to my aging parents.
#74 Lawrence Mills, south side of Merrimack River
Lawrence mills offer unique New England architecture
When I have guests new to the Merrimack Valley, I take them on a drive past Lawrence on Interstate 495. Most of I-495 cuts through rolling New England hills, past suburban developments, with exit signs indicating a town somewhere, over there. But here, where the interstate curves down around Lawrence to cross the Merrimack River, here is a city. From the river and its mills, to the water towers on the surrounding hills, the city is laid out for every traveler to see.
And the mills! There are so many of them! So many windows and brick walls in so many long boxes set one after another along the river, seemingly held in place by those tall smokestack cylinders.
Then, after all that severity, the Ayer Mill clock tower! How surprising is the elaborate shape, the arches, the clock, the double curves of the roof, the finial and weather vane - all that complexity above the simplicity of the mills.
The mills are straightforward: the necessary space for the industry generated by the water power of the river. Their simple bay pattern, a length of brick and a window repeated as many times as needed, adapted easily to changing methods of construction. The early mill walls are brick all the way through, with holes cut for windows. As glass became easier to manufacture and buildings easier to heat, the mill walls became glass, windows set within a structural frame, the brick only the skin over that frame. In the photograph that change can been seen from the older mill on the left to the newer one in the middle.
A note: If you intend to admire the view of the mills on the Merrimack from I-495, let someone else drive.
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1 comment:
I wrote this column so I could use Carl Russo's photograph, which I appreciated then and now.
Today I would describe the evolution of the pattern of brick and glass differently. Still the more wall, the less window, the older the factory.
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