— A Southwick Time Machine Original   Eleanor “Ellen” R. Rowley died at her home on Smith Hill in Colebrook, Connecticut, on May 6, 1920. She was 97 years old, having passed just 12 days after her 97th birthday. At the time of her death, she was the oldest resident of the town. Her health had declined following a fall in her home about seven weeks earlier, from which she never fully recovered. She was the last surviving member of a family of at least 16 children. Ellen had at least nine children of her own; six survived her. Among them was her son, Waldo, who was born on Smith Hill but later relocated to neighboring Tolland, Massachusetts, where he spent most of his life, aside from a few years in Naugatuck.    The Rowleys (Waldo top left; Eleanor seated) Waldo was known locally for his farming. In 1899, he took first prize at the New Boston Agricultural Fair in Sandisfield, Massachusetts, for exhibiting a yearling colt described as “very fine.” Trage...

    — A Southwick Time Machine Original   Farmers in Southwick, Massachusetts, and the surrounding hill towns didn’t speak of “agricultural science” in the modern sense, but their records tell a story of extremes: outsized harvests, enormous livestock, and seasons that refused to follow the rules. (Image inspired by the story) About 1756, a farmer in Granville, Massachusetts, believed to be Luke Hitchcock, rode horseback all the way to New York and returned with just four potatoes, then still a novelty. Two froze on the journey home. From what remained, he planted fourteen small hills, and by season's end,  harvested four full bushels. From almost nothing came abundance. Decades later, the pattern continued. In 1822, a single apple grown in Granville weighed one pound, seven ounces. That same year, a cabbage grown in Granville measured more than three feet, five inches in circumference after all of the loose leaves were trimmed away. Not long after, in 1827, workers ...

  — A Southwick Time Machine Original   On April 1, 1836, in Suffield, Connecticut, Stephen Rose Jr., aged 28, was attempting to cross a drain of water concealed beneath snow and ice. In an effort to test the ice before stepping forward, he held a loaded rifle with both hands near the muzzle, extending the breech away from his body. In doing so, however, the muzzle was directed toward his own head. At that moment, the weapon discharged, firing into his cheek near the mouth. The projectile lodged within his head, causing immediate death.   A recreation of a scene similar to the one described in the story   In early 19th-century New England, it was common practice for men to carry firearms during routine travel, whether for hunting, protection, or general utility, making their presence in even ordinary moments a familiar, if sometimes perilous, reality. Rose died instantly—his life ended not by violence of intent, but by a single misjudgment on a cold and uncertain cro...

— A Southwick Time Machine Original | True Crime     In the spring of 1834, a long-simmering dispute over land in the border town of Suffield, Connecticut, reached its breaking point—with fatal consequences. For years, John Winchell, Jr.—an aging, gray-headed man with darkish eyes—had been locked in a bitter conflict with his son, Uriel Winchell—his youngest child—over a tract of land. Years earlier, John had conveyed the property to his father, who in turn transferred it to Uriel, who was still a minor at the time. When Uriel came of age, John sought to reclaim the land, arguing that the original transfer had been made without proper consideration. Uriel refused. What followed was not a single quarrel, but a long deterioration. Both men claimed the land. Both used it. Both cut wood upon it. Over time, their disagreement hardened into something far more dangerous. Testimony would later reveal threats, physical altercations, and a father who frequently carried weapons—sometime...

    — A Southwick Time Machine Original     In the late spring of 1915, a quiet transformation began in Granville Center. On a rise nearly 1,200 feet above sea level, workmen gathered at an old colonial house—once the home of Eleazur Levi Brown. The structure, originally built circa 1805 by Joel Root, had stood for more than a century. Now, under the direction of Mrs. John M. Stevenson—Hattie (Cooley) Stevenson, a summer resident with deep ties to the nearby Cooley homestead—it was being brought into a new age, with as many modern conveniences as possible being added. Steam heat was installed. The best in modern plumbing followed. Hardwood floors replaced worn surfaces, and yet—despite these updates—the mansion retained its old-fashioned fireplaces and historic charm. By mid-summer, the work was complete. On July 10, 1915, the doors officially opened to the Oriole Inn and Tea Room. A Modern Inn with Old New England Charm Managed by Mrs. F. E. Walker of Short Hil...