I was born on November 22, 1919 in the northeast upstairs bedroom of a farmhouse located on Worcester Road, about .5 of a mile south of Princeton Center in Massachusetts, just northwest of Worcester. This was a very small town and I would guess that it probably had a population of about 1000 people, many of whom were dairy farmers. The towns population grew considerably each in the summer, as city folks from Boston, Worcester, etc., moved there for the summer months to enjoy the scenery and the fresh air. After Labor Day, they would begin to move back again to their winter homes. There were many hotels in use, particularly in the summer, some of which I remember and others that earlier burned. One very large one located on Goodnow Rd. (the Mt. Pleasant) was even split in half and made into two homes owned by the Whitney family. I was a young boy when the last one burned, Princeton INN/Prospect House. It was located next to the two Gregory houses just south of the church. I remember my father going to the fire to help wherever he could. He told about putting out flying sparks and embers with wet blankets, as they landed on the porch roof of the house next door, where Mary Gregory lived. It is also my understanding that they hung wet quilts out its windows to keep the heat from catching it on fire.
With the arrival of the automobile, the remaining hotels went out of business, as the tourists could now drive out to the towns around the cities and return the same day. One of the popular attractions was Mt. Wachusett, which stands at about 2000 feet above sea level and is the highest piece of land in Central and Eastern Mass. From the top of this Mt. one could see on a clear day into all six states of New England with use of binoculars. Princeton was called the “Hide and Seek” town, for as one would drive there. Particularly from the south, the topography was such that from the high spots on the road, one could see the town center with its church steeple, but then it would disappear as one drove down a hill and came up the other side. This was written about in a poem.
The town at that time had a store, a post office, a Congregational church, a library, and a town hall on the east and north sides of a “V” shaped common. Between the town hall and the library, set in a piece of ledge, is a geodetic survey marker indicating that the elevation is 1200 feet above sea level. The Goodnow family from Worcester, I believe, built the library for the town. A stone marker notes this over the front door, naming it the “GOODNOW LIBRARY”. The church at that time was located on the common, so Mr. Goodnow offered to build a town hall, to be donated to the town, if the town would move the church to its present location. The Town hall was built and named after his wife, whose last name was BAGG, thus the name on the building –BAGG HALL. This all took place before I was born. The library steeple houses a large clock with four faces, and a bell built by Paul Revere. At this point the common was surrounded by several residences, plus the public buildings. The lower common, prior to my birth, was used as a croquet court, by many of hotel folks. The school building, located on Boylston Ave., housed all the school grades and still stands today, but is being used for other purposes. While I was attending school there, an addition was put on, providing extra classrooms on the second floor, with a kitchen and a gymnasium. I well remember learning to play basketball on this limited floor space, with a row of chairs on each side for us players to run into. I attended three years of high school there in a class of six students. They did not offer a senior class curriculum, so I attended my senior year at Holden High school.
Artemus Brooks, my great grandfather, moved to Princeton from Sudbury, Mass. In the early 1800’s and purchased property on Thompson Road, now owned by the Merrit Woodward family where I believe my grandfather [William S.] was born in 1846. In 1859 Artemus purchased the farm on Worcester Road. It was here that William married and raised his family. His first wife was Sarah Fay, who gave birth to Frank and later to my Aunt Mary. My father {Wendell] was born in 1882, and his mother died at his birth. In 1906 Grandpa William married his second wife {Martina Hubbard] from Worcester, and was related to Hubbard family of East Princeton. It was at about this time that my father met my mother [Jennie Belle Chase], who had come from Belgrade, Me. to teach in the school. They got married and had four children; Dorothy, Mary, William, and Elizabeth, all of which grew up on the farm.
My Uncle Frank installed a number of internal phone systems in homes and hotels in the town. He later moved away, but I remember meeting him just once. I really don’t know that much about him.
My Aunt Mary married Dr. Hayden Stimson, and a veterinary, whom Grandpa had brought to town to serve the animal owners, later opening a Blacksmith shop at his place at the corner of Goodnow Road. The Stimsons lived at our farm for a while, giving birth to their first son, Frederick. After they moved to their new home, they had three more children: Brooks, Eleanor, and Richard. Doc established quite a large business, both in his veterinary business and his blacksmith shop. It was here that they repaired wagon wheels conducted his farrier business, which was where the town farmers took their horses to have new shoes put on. I shall always remember the various odors that came from both of these two businesses. Frederick married and had an appliance business in Norwood, Mass. One of his daughters, Merry, now lives in Princeton and is married to Stowell [Bud] Pratt. Brooks Stimson married Louise Thompson and ran the present farm with her dad, Charles, until his death. The farm is now owned by Charles and Joan Stimson and their family. Eleanor Stimson [Parks] lives in the Boston area and is still alive at the age of 100. Richard is still alive and lives in N. Y. state. Frederick and Brooks Stimson have both passed on. Grandpa Brooks lived to be 82. I remember his passing in 1927. I particularly remember the things that we used to do together; i.e.-walking together to the Hadley barn to feed the 200 hens, pumping water from the pitcher pump on the well there to water the hens and mix slop to feed the pigs. Speaking of which, he used to carry the buckets of slop in the winter from the farm with the buckets hung from a man’s neck yoke] which I now have in my possession. The pigs were kept in the cellar of the hen house in the winter and in an outside pen the rest of the time. We would then continue our journey up over the hill to the Goddard barn, where we kept the dry stock in the winter, plus a barn full of hay to feed the stock there. Most of this stock would spend the summer in one of our pastures. The Goddards were not farmers, so some sort of a deal was made, so that we could use their fields for crops, caring for the land as if we owned it, and using the barn, which had a big indoor barn yard, where the cattle could exercise and drink water from the large watering trough. The John Brooks originally owned the property, but I don’t believe that they were related to us.
I remember, so well, Grandpa teaching me how to cross the road to the barn from the house, telling me to Stop, Look to the left, then to the right, and if no cars were coming I could cross. Sometimes he would make me perform this routine back and forth many times, until he thought I had it down pat. It was a good lesson, as we all would cross the road many times each day.
Living on the farm came to an abrupt halt, when my dad became ill from a strep throat, which the settled in his kidneys. Without modern medicines, he passed on in about three days. My sister, Mary, who was studying nursing at Mass. General in Boston, came home to help take care of him. I shall never forget that dreadful morning, when she came out to the barn, where I was helping with milking and told me that he had died that night. She and Mom could not save the farm from being taken over by the mortgage holders, and I was far too young to physically do all the work, go to school, and be responsible, so we had to let the place go and move out. I know that I was too young to even realize the effect that this was all going to have on or lives.