Listed below are some selections from past newsletters, presentations, and other publications.
Past stories.
Bud Lauridsen, remembered.
Almost since the Society's inception, Bud Lauridsen helped guide and build it into its present form. The following tribute was written on Sepember 23, 2005, one day after his death, and originally published in our Winter 2006 newsletter:
Bud Lauridsen picked a glorious day to leave us—sunny, warm and dry, with a gentle breeze. It was the kind of day that makes you think you’re in the best place in the world. Then we all heard an unfamiliar, wailing siren from the direction of the firehouse. My son asked what it meant, and I could think of only one message: a modern echo from a much earlier day when the church bell regularly signaled deaths within the small community.
We walked over to the Historical Society, gave the Schoolhouse bell a good ring, and lowered the flag. How many times Bud rang that same bell over at the King Ridge Ski School, I don’t know, but he must recognize its sound by now. We stood silent at the edge of the field overlooking Sunapee and King Ridge until one of the crows that watches over the village let out a long, scolding squawk. He lifted off the tree-top above us and flew down the row of buildings: Acquisitions, Schoolhouse, Privy, Country Store, Violin Shop, Eagle Hose. Is there anything that Bud hasn’t helped create?
I spoke with Bud as he was leaving the Old New London pageant, just a few days earlier. He offered a firm handshake through the passenger window. For the first time in awhile he was speaking in whens and not ifs. I took that as a good sign, a sign that he might want to stick around a bit longer and give us some instruction on fixing a worn gasket in his fire pumper. He said he had bought enough replacements to last 200 years—and they should fit Bill Kidder’s pumper as well.
Now I suspect that his confidence may have been more fundamental: the job would get done by the organization he had helped nurture with vision and hard work and patience. His legacy. Always practical, he insisted that the Society not become a static memorial to anyone. “You’ve got to keep it fresh,” he often said, “or the people won’t come.”
I miss Bud terribly, but I also know that I’m not alone; others knew him better and will miss him more. A couple of years ago, on late fall afternoons when the first snow threatened, I would hear him methodically nailing shingles on the Eagle Hose building, the crows watching from the treetops. I will miss that scene. And if I intruded to help, he would invariably start telling stories—some new, some not. I will miss those stories. As I recall, the snow finally fell on the same evening he set the last shingles on that roof. What timing! Or maybe he had checked the forecast.
For many of us the changes in New London are coming too fast, the deaths of those that personify the town too frequent. It’s unsettling. But the Historical Society is a place to put changes into broader perspective, in which time is measured by generations.
Right now it’s hard to think beyond next week, but we will extend our horizon. The Society’s Board is committed to it. And we hope you will join us by offering your ideas and contributing your time to the effort. Let’s all be grateful for Bud’s enduring example and “keep it fresh.”
- Jim Perkins (9/23/2005)
James Goold, carriages & sleighs
► See the society's Albany Sleigh
The Albany sleigh in our collection was built by the firm credited with inventing its distinctive, swell-body design. This is a four-passenger model (much less common than the two-person cutter), and it is relatively rare in New England as the “Portland” sleigh was predominant. Donated to the Society in 1996 by Brad and Gretchen White, the sleigh was built by the James Goold Company of Albany, New York, perhaps around 1880, and passed down through the estate of Brad’s grandfather, Willis White.
Early Life
Born in 1790, James Goold moved at age four from Granby, Connecticut, to Stephentown, New York. His father was a farmer and blacksmith. The family was comfortable but not wealthy, and at age 14, James was sent to Troy, New York, to serve as an apprentice to Obadiah Penniman, a bookbinder. After a year, James moved to Pittsfield, Massachusetts, as apprentice to a carriage-maker, William Clark. The enterprise failed 18 months later, so James completed his apprenticeship with another carriage-maker, Jason Clapp.
By the summer of 1809, then nineteen years old, James Goold was qualified as a journeyman carriage body-maker. He then went looking for work in New York City, Newark, New Haven, Troy. His father offered some advice: “Be faithful to your employer, honest to all you deal with, pleasant in the house, civil to all about you; not quick to resent an affront, not soon angry. Keep a bright lookout for such as are bad company or bad advisers. Remember the Sabbath, and attend meeting reverently. Take conscience for your guide, and do nothing that will cause repentance.”
In November, 1812, James returned to his parents’ house at Stephentown to study over the winter. Then in April, 1813, James Goold found the financing he needed to open his own carriage shop in Albany at the corner of Maiden Lane and Dean Street. The following year, he married Elizabeth Vail, and the couple subsequently produced thirteen children. As business grew, he leased additional manufacturing space around the city. In 1836, he consolidated his operations into a new factory on Union Street. It was also around this time that he finalized a swell-body sleigh design that he had first sketched almost twenty years earlier.
A Setback
Two years later he lost everything. On May 25, 1838, a fire destroyed his new factory, machinery, inventory, and materials—a loss totaling $45,000. He was insured for just $19,000. A group of concerned citizens reportedly gathered on the day after the fire and offered him a five-year loan of $20,000, without interest. Why this outpouring of support? He had little or no competition in the area and employed about a hundred people—sometimes more as the work required. He also had important private and commercial customers, and appreciation for his workmanship was widespread.
After recovering from the fire, the James Goold Co. continued to operate into the age of the automobile. Sons and grandsons joined the business as partners. At times, three generations shared ownership of the company. Altogether, James Goold was actively engaged in coach-building for 66 years.
An 1868 trade magazine article summarized the scale of the operations at that time: "This establishment turns out during the year about one hundred carriages of all descriptions from an open buggy to a Clarence coach, and about one hundred sleighs, of all designs, from a cutter to a large barouche; also, about fifty street cars."
A Tribute
James Goold died on October 1, 1879 at the age of 89 years, 6 months. A few weeks later, the Carriage-Builders’ National Association held its annual convention in New York city and commemorated his death with the following statement:
"Whereas, This Association has learned, with feelings of deep sorrow, of the recent death of our illustrious associate, James Goold, of Albany, New York, who was the first to inscribe his name upon our membership roll, was long our honored Vice-President, and at the time of his decease was the oldest active carriage builder in the United States; and who, after a life of remarkable activity and usefulness, protracted with almost undiminished strength of mind and body to his ninetieth year, has passed from among us, and we shall no more see his venerable form, dignified mien and thoughtful and kindly face;..."
So passed James Goold of Albany, builder of this exquisite sleigh, whose innovative, swell-body design would attain iconic status in Currier & Ives illustrations.