The Sunday porch: East Boston

East Boston, c. 1973, via National ArchivesLaundry hanging from triple-decker porches in East Boston near Logan Airport, May 1973.

East Boston, c. 1973, via National Archives“From the rear porch of his home at the southern corner of Neptune and Lovell Streets, Larry Vienza watches jet take off from Runway 15r-33l. Once airborne, the jet will fly directly over his house, May 1973” (with photographer’s caption).

These photos* were taken by Michael Philip Manheim, for DOCUMERICA, a 1970’s photography project of the Environmental Protection Agency.

The East Boston neighborhood was devastated by the noise from Logan airport’s expansion in the 1960s and 70s. (See Friday’s post, “Neptune Road.”)

There are more pictures from DOCUMERICA here.


*Via the U.S. National Archives Commons on flickr.

Another May

Poem on window pane (detail), HABS, Library of Congress

Another May new buds new flowers
Ah why has happiness no second spring

Scratched into a sitting room window pane of Borough House, which was built between 1758 and 1821 in Sumter County, South Carolina.

The words (with slight variations) are from “Sonnet II” by Charlotte Smith  — whose poems were praised by her contemporaries Wordsworth and Coleridge.

I have not been able to find out who might have put them on the window.

Borough House, S.C., HABS, Library of CongressBorough House is architecturally noteworthy because it is partly constructed with rammed earth — an unusual building material in the United States.  (There is more about the house here.) It still stands today, in private ownership.

(I believe that the window with the poem is one of the two left of the front door.)

The photos here are part of an Historic American Buildings Survey (HABS), May 1985, via Library of Congress Prints and Photographs Division.

The Sunday porch: South Beach

South Beach porch, 1973, via Natl. Archives“Inexpensive retirement hotels are a hallmark of the South Beach area [of Miami Beach, Florida]. A favored place is the front porch, where residents sit and chat or watch the activities on the beach.”

South Beach, c. 1975, via Natl. Archives

These c. 1975  pictures* (shown here with their original captions) were taken by Flip Schulke for DOCUMERICA — a photography program created in late 1971 by the brand new U.S. Environmental Protection Agency.

The EPA hired over 100 photographers to “document subjects of environmental concern.”  The work continued until 1977 and left behind an archive of about 20,000 images.

In addition to recording damage to the nation’s landscapes, the project captured “the era’s trends, fashions, problems, and achievements,” according to the U.S. National Archives, which held an exhibit of the photos, “Searching for the Seventies,” in 2013. 

South Beach, c. 1975, via Natl. Archives“One of the many residential hotels for retired people living on small incomes. . . . The front porch is a favorite retreat.”

South Beach, c. 1975, via Natl. Archives“Income of the retirees in this area is not high, and most live in residential hotels such as the one pictured here.”

There are more pictures from DOCUMERICA here.


*Via the U.S. National Archives Commons on flickr.

The Sunday porch (on Monday)

Today, I’m repeating a porch from August 2012, but it is a nice one. (We were traveling this weekend.)

The Sunday porch/enclos*ure: Maplewood Camp, Waseca, Minn., c. 1900, Library of Congress“Cottages at Maplewood [Waseca, Minnesota],” c.1880-c.1899. By Detroit Publishing Co., via Library of Congress Prints and Photographs Division.*

Maplewood Park on Clear Lake was a national vacation attraction at the end of the nineteenth century. (Click on any image to enlarge it.)

The Sunday porch/enclos*ure: Maplewood Camp, Waseca, Minn., c. 1900, Library of CongressAbove: Maplewood’s pavilion for Chautaquas. From the 1870s to 1920s, the Chautaqua movement brought speakers and companies of musicians, dancers, and actors to camps like Maplewood for up to a week at a time.

The Waseca Historical Society still hosts a Chautaqua at Maplewood Park every July.

To read about a similar sort of summer cabin living, which also continues today, see this 2012 New York Times article, here.

The Sunday porch/enclos*ure: Maplewood Camp, Waseca, Minn., c. 1900, Library of CongressAbove: the view of Clear Lake from Maplewood.


*All photos here: c.1880 – c.1899, by Detroit Publishing Co., via Library of Congress Prints and Photographs Division.

The Sunday porch: Lincoln, Vermont

The Sunday porch/enclos*ure: Lincoln VT, 1940, by L. Rosskam, via Library of Congress“Front porch. Lincoln, Vermont,” July 1940, by Louise Rosskam, via the FSA/OWI Collection, Library of Congress Prints and Photographs Division.

The porch as a farm woman’s summertime mission control room. . .

Her broom (and 4H posters) are on the wall, and more cleaning and gardening tools are behind the chair.  She has stacks of magazines (and TIME in hand).  Her potted plants are doing well.  Above them are fishing poles and a kite.

The cat dozes above the steps — I think the scrub board behind the broken screen is there to keep him out of the house.

The wash tub is setting on a shelf built across the angle where the two sides of the porch meet.  This puzzled me until I realized that it must be there to catch rainwater from the roof.

The photographer, Louise Rosskam (1910-2003), was “one of the elusive pioneers of what has been called the golden age of documentary photography,” according to the Library of Congress.

Like many of her photos, this image was attributed for many years to her husband Edwin, who was also a photographer.  At the time it was taken — as part of a series on rural Vermont — he was working as an editor for the Farm Security Administration (FSA) of the U.S. government.

Her first professional photography work had been in the mid 1930s for the Philadelphia Record.  The paper would only actually hire Edwin, so he recouped her wages by including them on his expense vouchers under “gas and oil.”

The couple then produced documentary photo books on San Francisco and Washington, D.C. (but only Edwin’s name appeared on the covers).  After 1939, when Edwin went to work for the FSA, Louise began to take freelance photographs.  In the 40s, they both worked for Standard Oil Company.

Near the end of her life, Louise began to write to institutions like the Library of Congress correcting the credit given to Edwin for her own photos.  There’s an interesting interview with her from 2000 here.