After weeks totaling up their costs, towns, cities and tribal nations will receive 75-percent reimbursements if disaster request is approved by White House.
The crash was reported around 3:50 p.m. on Interstate 95 near Exit 30, Surf Avenue in Stratford. The accident backed up traffic for six miles during rush hour.
Acting Police Chief Rebeca Garcia says the recent homicide investigations are making good progress.
UConn officials seek bailout, and warned they may need significantly more if the coronavirus shuts down the campus and hospital again.
The UConn Board of Trustees voted to name a research science building at Avery Point after former Gov. Lowell P. Weicker.
A Bridgeport man has been charged with sexually assaulting a 13-year-old girl on a city sidewalk.
A doctor who illegally prescribed Oxycodone and failed to pay employee taxes will spend six months in prison, authorities said.
Genetic material held over from Neanderthals may be responsible for more severe COVID-19 infections, according to a new study.
Janet Robinson has been the town’s superintendent of schools since 2013.
There are three new confirmed positive cases of COVID-19 among members of the Fairfield Ludlowe High School community.
While the overnight rain was beneficial, the state’s rainfall for the year remains well below average.
Police say someone was stabbed in the area of Bunnell Street and Stratford Avenue Tuesday night.
Traffic incidents across Connecticut are pilling up Wednesday morning after storms left roads covered in wet leaves.
Overnight storms with some strong winds have knocked out power to tens of thousands of utility customers across Connecticut.
A crash involving several tractor-trailer trucks has a part of I-95 south in Bridgeport closed Wednesday morning.
By Diana Dominguez
Many names originally given to the land by indigenous peoples are no longer prevalent. Historians often attribute this to the lack of common language between early settlers and Native Americans that resulted in difficulty pronouncing, translating, and remembering names. Evolving views towards indigenous cultures during the 19th century, however, brought about a revival in Native American name usage—a practice supposedly initiated out of respect for the Native American way of life. The Indian Hill Cemetery, in Middletown, Connecticut, provides insight into the culture and ideals behind these naming practices.
Did Americans really seek to commemorate indigenous peoples? What can the founding documents of Indian Hill Cemetery tell us about late 19th-century American views on Native Americans and the use of indigenous names? Understanding the motives behind these choices provides a deeper understanding of common views important to the rural cemetery movement in America. It can be argued that the founders of Indian Hill Cemetery merely sought to promote the cemetery by portraying Middletown’s interactions with Native Americans as friendly—thereby separating themselves from a history that often portrayed whites in troubling and unflattering terms.
The Chapel at Indian Hill Cemetery – Indian Hill Cemetery Association
The rural cemetery movement emerged from a desire to go back to a time when nature dominated the landscape and indigenous peoples occupied the land. It associated Native American culture with innocence, simplicity, and an intimate relationship with the environment. This movement centered around the idea of constructing cemeteries where both the dead and the living resided—places where death met beauty and nature. Consequently, designers began to surround cemeteries with pleasant visuals such as flowers and nature-themed graphics (images usually associated with peace and tranquility) that invoked a desire for, and romanticizing of, the past.
The Indian Hill Cemetery dedication on September 30, 1850, emphasized popular ideals of the time, glorifying romanticized landscapes and Native American features prevalent in earlier times. The keynote speaker, Reverend Frederic J. Goodwin, invoked the indigenous past, and linked it to American life at the time. He drew upon the “red man of the forest[’s]” choice to stay on the land and his belief that the cemetery was previously a Native American burial ground. He drew parallels between indigenous peoples and Americans by stating that given the choice, Americans would pick the same location to lay their loved ones to rest as the indigenous peoples had, and that whites ultimately seemed destined to suffer the same fate as Native Americans, “the people who perished.”
Attempts by Indian Hill Cemetery’s founders to separate themselves from narratives of Native American-white hostility come through in the Articles of Association booklet used at Indian Hill Cemetery’s dedication. It featured a list of Native American proprietors that included names of indigenous peoples along with their special roles or duties. By referring to Native American leaders as “proprietors,” Indian Hill Cemetery founders stripped away obvious distinctions between Native Americans and whites. (Many Native Americans, however, did not traditionally classify themselves as property owners.) The indigenous names are also translated to common Anglicized names: for example, Sassepequin to James, or Muckchese to Jacob. The adding of name translations takes away from indigenous identity and merges it with the white, American identity of the cemetery’s founders.
Map of Indian Hill Cemetery, 1850, Special Collections and Archives, Olin Library, Wesleyan University
In addition, Indian Hill Cemetery documents tell a story that avoids depictions of hostility between Native Americans and whites. Out of respect for indigenous peoples, the cemetery’s founders named pathways and avenues after the “Indian Proprietors.” Most names chosen belonged to Native Americans of important rank, such as Sow-Heage, known as the Great Sachem, or chief; his son Sau-Seunk, who was the Sachem presiding over the sale of the town; and Manitowese, nephew of Sow-Heage, who gave up the deed of New Haven. By commemorating Native Americans who signed deeds of land transference, they portray peaceful interactions between whites and indigenous peoples in the past.
During this period of the 19th century, when Americans romanticized indigenous cultures, Indian Hill Cemetery’s founders looked to increase their business by portraying the cemetery as a peaceful and harmonious resting place. To do this meant stripping away differences used to forge Native American and white identity. By choosing to eliminate many of the distinctions between whites and indigenous people, these men sought to promote a clean, uncomplicated history, free from conflict.
Diana Dominguez wrote this as a freshman at Wesleyan University during the 2014-2015 academic year while also a prospective Neuroscience and Behavior and Dance double major on the Pre-Med track, and a resident of New York City, New York.
Last week, the school closed for Thursday and Friday and students learned from home after at least 14 cases of COVID-19 emerged among students.
Since that day, the school’s number of active cases of the disease caused by the novel coronavirus has declined from 139 to 102 as of Tuesday evening, according to SHU’s data.
A local man, on probation on drug and assault charges, was arrested after police said they caught him with gun stolen in Tennessee.
The change impacts credentials that expired between March 10 through Nov. 30.
In May, the federal Fish and Wildlife Service announced a new rule that artwork submitted to the contest must include hunting imagery.
The National Weather Service says rainfall totals will range from 1 to nearly 3 inches.
Lamont’s plan to extend the moratorium on evictions of tenants until the end of the year would correspond with Centers for Disease Control and Prevention guidelines.
“I see full-service big box, membership gyms being a thing of the past very soon,” said Chris Wares, owner of CW Fitness.
A group of researchers is examining how the coronavirus affects the body’s ability to feel pain, and is suggesting new ways to manage pain based on that knowledge.
Terrence Sullivan is once again in the race for a state representative seat in Bridgeport as a Republican.
Antonio Felipe, who grew up in the 130th District, won a special election last year to represent it. He was just 23.
Wilfredo Martinez is running as an Independent Party candidate in the Connecticut House of Representative District 124 race.
Jasmin Sanchez, a Republican, unsuccessfully ran for the state House 139th District in 2017 and 2019. Now she seeks the 124th District seat.
Andre Baker, owner and CEO of Baker-Isaac Funeral Services in Bridgeport and Baker Funeral Services in South Norwalk, moved to Bridgeport in 1994.
A Superior Court judge is considering whether to allow two doctors to testify in a lawsuit challenging the state’s requirement that students wear masks in schools.
Terrie Wood is up for re-election as she completes her sixth term as a state representative for Darien and Norwalk.
A Stratford man has been charged with stealing the vehicle of a dead man last October, according to police.
Connecticut saw declines in all categories except for murder and non-negligent manslaughter, which rose by 20 percent between 2018 and 2019.
By Rena Tobey
Imagine a Loyalist to the British king sitting for hours opposite a rebel who fought to overturn British rule. The ratification of the United States Constitution in 1789 brought them together. What did they talk about? Perhaps they did not talk at all. After all, the Loyalist was a painter, and the rebel was his portrait sitter. Not speaking would be fairly typical, but nothing in Ralph Earl‘s portrait of Mariann Wolcott conveys silence. Earl’s likeness of Wolcott suggests an easy rapport and admiring respect. In the work, he captures her rousing spirit and self-assurance. Perhaps she holds one soft glove to demonstrate grace, or gloves off, she is ready to fight for her point of view. This portrait leaves no doubt that 24-year-old Mariann Wolcott was a figure of fashion and force, befitting one who took shaping a nation literally into her own hands.
Ralph Earl, Mariann Wolcott, 1789, oil on canvas – Litchfield Historical Society
On July 9, 1776, a broadsheet of the Declaration of Independence was read aloud to George Washington’s Continental army troops mustered in New York at the Battery in lower Manhattan. Against Washington’s expressed wish for order, the soldiers and young men of The Sons of Liberty jumped the tall protective fence of nearby Bowling Green Park. They then tied ropes around the equestrian statue of King George III and pulled it to the ground. The gilded lead statue smashed, and angry colonists then further hacked it into bits.
An idea formed for using the “leaden George.” Colonists painstakingly loaded pieces onto wagons and hauled them to the wharf before placing them on a schooner that sailed to Norwalk. From there men transferred the statue shards onto oxcarts and transported them to a foundry in Litchfield. General Oliver Wolcott, Mariann’s father, owned that foundry. The plan? To melt the former statue’s lead to form bullets. The exorbitantly expensive statue, itself a symbol of the taxation policies that led to colonial revolt, ironically became “melted majesty” to be fired back at British troops.
Craftsmen required one pound of lead to make 20 balls, and Mariann Wolcott kept careful accounting of the production of bullets in the Wolcott orchard. She tracked 42,088 bullets. Her mother Laura produced 8,378 bullets and her 10-year-old brother, Frederick, 936. Mariann herself formed 10,790, a figure representing a quarter of all the bullets produced from King George’s fallen statue.
Meantime, Ralph Earl firmly allied himself with England, assessing his career as a portraitist to be more secure siding with affluent Loyalists. Disinherited by his father, a captain in the “rebel service,” Earl staged his own rebellion in March 1777. Acting as a British spy, he disclosed information about the “rebel army” plan to invade Long Island. Later, while in England, Earl requested recompense for this act. No record of a response survives.
When (in April 1777) the Committee of Safety in New Haven told Earl to “take up arms,” face imprisonment, or “quit the Province,” Earl chose the latter. He disguised himself as a servant to British Captain John Money, the Quartermaster General of General John Burgoyne’s Northern Army. They sailed to Newport under a flag of truce, then on to England. Earl used his time there to hone his artistic skills. He married Ann Whiteside, while his first wife, Sarah, and their daughter still resided in New Haven. But the painter felt the call to return home and in 1785, sailed for North America on the Neptune—borrowing money for passage.
Ralph Earl, Dr. Mason Fitch Cogswell, 1791, oil on canvas – The Museum of Fine Arts, Houston
In New York City, the profligate Earl landed himself in prison, for a debt amounting to less than $25. Earl was freed in 1788, and his court-appointed guardian, Dr. Mason Fitch Cogswell, helped Earl start over, yet again, in Connecticut. The talented artist reasserted himself into Connecticut society, traveling around the state to paint notables.
By 1789, when Connecticut Lieutenant Governor Oliver Wolcott commissioned Earl to paint his wife, his daughter Mariann, and himself to commemorate the ratification of the Constitution, Earl was at the peak of his career. So was Wolcott, a signer of the Declaration of Independence and just seven years away from serving as governor of his home state.
In his work, Earl shows Mariann Wolcott as more than just “one of the most distinguished beauties of her time,” as Samuel Wolcott wrote in his 1881 family history. She stands proudly in front of her family’s tidy fields. The illusion of depth suggests the Wolcott land holdings were vast, with the Bantam River snaking toward Litchfield, its white meetinghouse spire just visible in the distance. Mariann wears a cotton day dress, and her spotted muslin shawl, kid gloves, and fashionable parasol, all protect her skin from acquiring a working-class suntan. Her herisson (“hedgehog” in French) hairstyle, with its two soft ringlets and light powdering, was the latest rage. Anything but foppish and delicate, Mariann’s intelligence is what lingers, created with the painterly trope of light bouncing off her forehead.
Ralph Earl, Oliver Wolcott, ca. 1789, oil on canvas – Museum of Connecticut History
In October 1789, Mariann married Chauncey Goodrich, a lawyer in Hartford. She then wrote lively letters to her family, wittily advising her brother “in the mysteries of the female heart” and sharing her husband’s growing political prominence. In her portrait, the sprig of pink roses placed demurely at her bodice functioned as an air freshener, but also symbolized the bud of fertility and motherhood. Yet Mariann, once more, defied tradition. A month after marrying, in a letter to her sister-in-law, Elizabeth, she wrote, “As for being obedient and dutiful, tell [her brother Oliver] it is not in my creed.”
From her take-charge act early in the Revolutionary War to the celebration of the new country, Mariann Wolcott stood in contrast to the opportunistic artist Ralph Earl. The coming together of these divergent temperaments with her portrait immortalizes that fascinating encounter.
Rena Tobey is an American art historian, providing talks and tours around the state. She has also created Artventures! Game—a party game on the adventures of art and art history.
Officials said in-person classes will still resume Tuesday at Fairfield Ludlowe High School.
Two people were wounded in separate shootings in Bridgeport on Monday, according to police.
Stephen Dincher is the secretary of the state Libertarian Party, but he appears on the ballot as the endorsed candidate of the Independent Party.
The Chamber of Commerce will hold its Union Savings Bank Scholarship Golf Tournament on Oct. 13 at the Whitney Farms Golf Course.
The fire occurred early Monday morning at the Howe Avenue building that houses Liberty Tax and Shelton Wine & Spirits, officials said.
Connecticut has hired an intelligence analyst to monitor the internet and is one of 11 states using new software to empower election officials to report false claims.
by Andy Piascik
The years after the Second World War were prosperous ones for American businesses. With ever-greater profits and international power, there seemed no limits on the potential for domestic growth. This coincided with prevailing views of the natural world as something to be conquered and exploited for the betterment of society. It was in this favorable business climate that Monsanto, Ciba, and other chemical companies produced Dichlorodiphenyltrichloroethane, or DDT, for widespread use as an insecticide to promote the growth of the nation’s agricultural business.
This is America…where free enterprise encourages men to invent, create, and improve… – World War II Posters, Office of War Information, National Archives
In the late 1940s, however, a Westport physician by the name of Morton Biskind began noticing new ailments (and new variations on old ailments) in the people he treated, as well as in domestic animals and wildlife. The maladies he observed initially proved most pronounced in dogs, cats, sheep, and cattle and included degenerative problems in their brains, internal organs, and muscles.
When Biskind noticed a dramatic increase in similar symptoms in humans, he began doing research and consulting other doctors. In 1949, he and Dr. Irving Bieber published “DDT Poisoning: A New Syndrome With Neuropsychiatric Manifestations” in the American Journal of Psychotherapy. Much of the article focused on what Biskind and Bieber saw as a link between DDT exposure and the occurrence of polio. “Facts are stubborn,” the authors wrote, “and refusal to accept them does not avoid their inexorable effects—the tragic consequences are now upon us.”
Biskind, Bieber, and others alarmed by the effects of DDT bucked the status quo. Just one year before Biskind and Bieber published their article, Swiss chemist Paul Hermann Muller won the 1948 Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine for discovering the effectiveness of DDT against yellow fever and malaria. Chemical giants such as DuPont and Geigy manufactured large quantities of the insecticide for use during World War II and government regulators (such as those at the Food and Drug Administration) dismissed Biskind’s claims.
In reality, it was already well known among scientists that DDT had a devastating impact on life forms beyond the insects its manufacturers intended it to kill. In addition to the humans and mammals Biskind observed in and around Westport, virtually every kind of fish, bird, animal, and insect exposed even to small doses of DDT suffered adverse health consequences.
Shoot to Kill! Protect Your Victory Garden – World War II Posters, Office of War Information, National Archives
Though largely ignored (and sometimes reviled), Biskind continued to spread his message of warning. In 1950, he testified before Congress about the harmful effects of DDT, and in 1953, he published another important article, “Public Health Aspects of the New Insecticides,” in the American Journal of Digestive Diseases. Though resistance from powerful quarters continued, the message began to get through. More and more studies showed the destructive impact DDT spraying had on all forms of wildlife, as well as its direct links to cancer and other diseases in humans.
It was in the 1960s that the work Biskind accomplished actually bore fruit, as others, such as biologist Paul Shepard, carried forward his efforts. Most famous among those inspired by Biskind was Rachel Carson, a marine biologist who in 1962 authored Silent Spring, a landmark in environmental literature. Five years later, in 1967, a group of scientists and lawyers formed the Environmental Defense Fund for the express purpose of banning the production and use of DDT.
In 1968, Hungary became the first nation to ban DDT for agricultural use and other countries soon followed—the United States banning DDT in 1972. In response, DDT manufacturers sued the Environmental Protection Agency. Authorities eventually upheld the ban, however, and DDT has ever since only been authorized for use in extreme cases (such as when facing possible threats from fleas spreading bubonic plague or mosquitoes spreading yellow fever).
Morton Biskind died in 1981 at the age of 74. His work, however, continues to live on—celebrated by environmentalists around the world, as well as by such influential public health advocates and writers as E. G. Vallianatos.
Bridgeport native Andy Piascik is an award-winning author who has written for many publications and websites over the last four decades. He is also the author of two books.
YOUTUBE – DDT: Weapon Against Disease – Documentary Film (1945)
from Connecticut History | a CTHumanities Project https://connecticuthistory.org/morton-biskind-warned-the-world-about-ddt/
By Bruce M. Stave, PhD
The University of Connecticut, located in Mansfield, was founded in 1881 as the Storrs Agricultural School with the purpose of teaching the practical, real-world skills of farming. This curricular focus stood in contrast to the classical education offered by established elite private institutions such as Yale, Wesleyan, and Trinity. Gifts of land and money from brothers Charles and Augustus Storrs laid the foundation for the school. Successive changes in name reflected shifting educational expectations. In 1893, the school changed its name to Storrs Agricultural College (SAC), which became the Connecticut Agricultural College (CAC) in 1899 and Connecticut State College (CSC) in 1933. It was designated the University of Connecticut (UConn) in 1939 as it began a lengthy climb from local to regional stature and, finally, by the end of the 20th century, national repute.
Old Main Building, Connecticut Agricultural College, ca. 1890, demolished in 1927 – Thomas J. Dodd Research Center, University of Connecticut Libraries
Yale had originally been designated Connecticut’s land grant institution, but, to the chagrin of the state’s farmers, graduated few who practiced agriculture. With their support, and with a great deal of acrimony, Yale transferred land grant status in 1893 to Storrs Agricultural College. Hard feelings persisted, and the New Haven Register complained that national funds were wasted in Storrs and should be returned to Yale. It contended, “Connecticut has managed to acquire an institution that is at once a farce and fake….the faculty collected by the board has been enough to damn any institution….The scholarship has been of the poorest quality….A diploma from Storrs has never stood for serious training and high scholarship.” Despite such antagonism, the college progressed during the early years of the 20th century, particularly under the long presidency of Charles Lewis Beach, who witnessed change in campus brick and mortar as well as academic achievement.
View from church spire, agricultural buildings on the campus of UConn, 1939 – Thomas J. Dodd Research Center, University of Connecticut Libraries
The arrival of a young, dynamic Midwesterner, Albert Nels Jorgensen, mitigated the impact of the Great Depression on the college. Jorgensen, who served until 1962, began his tenure by convincing the State Legislature to fund the physical development of the campus despite economic hard times. He introduced a multiple-year building program so that by the end of the Depression decade almost $3 million in construction and improvements were underway, more than had been spent since the school began.
Among other structures, the iconic Wilbur Cross Library with its golden dome, an engineering building, a home economics building, and dorms for boys and girls (Wood and Whitney halls) appeared on campus. By the time he left the presidency, he called for the construction of many more well-known buildings. These included the much-used Hillside Road concert hall, named in Jorgensen’s honor, and the Social Sciences (Monteith) and Humanities (Arjona) Buildings, which hugged the central lake on Mansfield Road. Planners suggested their demolition during the first decade of the 21st century, but a reprieve was granted to the Monteith building and the fate of Arjona awaited final decision. While known for his bricks and mortar prowess, other more transformative events marked Jorgensen’s years in office.
Connecticut Agricultural College cadet officers, 1903 – Thomas J. Dodd Research Center, University of Connecticut Libraries
World War II brought enormous shifts to the university as the military trained on the campus and male students left their studies to serve in the armed forces. As a consequence, women had the opportunity to play a greater role in student life. The first women students attended classes in Storrs as commuters in 1891. By 1896, the college built the first women’s dormitory, Oak Grove Cottage, where male visitors could “come calling” between 7:00 p.m. and 10:00 p.m. on Friday evenings.
If men were to be trained as farmers, women would learn home economics. During World War I, women played active roles not only as “farmerettes” tending to gardens and working in canning kitchens but, in the absence of males, they also staffed and headed the campus newspaper. By Jorgensen’s time in World War II, the university’s female students took leadership in campus organizations, but only for the duration of the war. In factories such as the Cheney Silk Mills in Manchester, women worked late shifts so that they could attend class. Through the Connecticut Women’s Land Army, they tended farms. Four women, making a strong statement regarding equality, joined 22 men in the second-year pilot training course offered by the university in conjunction with the Civil Aeronautics Authority. Although gender relations would revert to pre-war conditions after the conflict ended, the wartime experience made a definite impact. (Many decades later in 2011, Susan Herbst became UConn’s first woman president.)
Women’s Land Army members on their way to jobs after training at UConn, 1943 – Courtesy of the Thomas J. Dodd Research Center, University of Connecticut Libraries and Connecticut History Illustrated
The campus changed in other ways as well during wartime. While few African American students called Storrs home, the racially homogeneous student body grew slightly more diverse when a small group of Japanese American (Nisei) students enrolled at the university, in preference to becoming residents of the era’s internment camps. The university emerged as a leader among institutions enrolling Japanese Americans.
With the war’s end, UConn joined the march toward a vast expansion of public universities throughout the nation. Veterans flooded the halls of academe and, from 1946 to 1950, the school opened a special campus for them at Fort Trumbull in Groton. The McCarthy era took its toll on UConn when authorities forced four professors with alleged “red” connections from campus. A sensitive national issue played out during the 1950s when a fraternity was ultimately successful in its efforts to pledge an African American, still one of the very few on campus. And, among other things, anti-Semitism lingered.
Despite such issues during Jorgensen’s presidency, the institution acquired an existing law school, which by the beginning of the 21st century developed into a nationally recognized center of legal studies, and moved toward the creation of medical and dental schools that opened in 1961 and 1968, respectively. The schools emerged as major research institutions, all within the framework of the University of Connecticut Health Center.
Jorgensen’s successor, Homer D. Babbidge Jr. moved UConn toward a more liberal arts, humanistic focus and away from its agricultural and technical tradition while heading the school between 1962 and 1972. The tension between the two emphases had existed since the early 20th century, and while Babbidge was much beloved by many students and faculty, others resented his approach. Leading the university during a time of vast national social and cultural upheavals, Babbidge became the target of Viet Nam war protesters and had to deal with critical questions of racial and gender rights. His was not an easy time for college presidents, although thousands joined a petition asking him to remain in service when he announced his resignation.
Connecticut Aggies v. New Hampshire, Connecticut Agricultural College, 1928 – Thomas J. Dodd Research Center, University of Connecticut Libraries
The succeeding years witnessed the development of research programs in the natural sciences, engineering, the humanities, and the social sciences while student life revolved around athletics, drinking (epitomized by the notorious end-of-semester Spring Weekend celebrations), and sometimes drugs, as well as the more intellectual pursuits of lectures, seminars, and informal bull sessions. Athletics played an important role at UConn beginning in the late 19th century when team sports supplanted manual labor (such as the breaking of rocks) to give the students some physical activity. In 1923, the Connecticut Agricultural College joined other New England state colleges to form the New England Conference on Intercollegiate Athletics, and UConn joined the Yankee Conference in 1946.
Annual Freshman-Sophomore rope pull at Mirror Lake, UConn, 1935 – Thomas J. Dodd Research Center, University of Connecticut Libraries
By 1956, the board of trustees and the administration pledged to oppose “big-time” athletics, but this changed in 1979 when UConn became a member of the Big East conference. Already having a long, and often winning, basketball tradition, in 1985 and 1986 the school hired new women’s and men’s basketball coaches, Geno Auriemma and Jim Calhoun, respectively, who took their teams to unprecedented successes and themselves to the Basketball Hall of Fame. UConn took special advantage of the Civil Rights Act’s Title IX to encourage women’s sports, especially in basketball where the team won multiple national championships during the end of the 20th century and the first decade of the new millennium. In the meantime, the trustees voted to upgrade football to Division I and a 40,000-seat stadium, Rentschler Field, was built in East Hartford and often filled to capacity. The team earned three bowl bids, under the direction of Coach Randy Edsall, during the new century’s first decade. Edsall abruptly left for the University of Maryland and was replaced by Paul Pasqualoni.
University of Connecticut Archery team, 1944 – Thomas J. Dodd Research Center, University of Connecticut Libraries
National athletic prominence attracted an increasing number of applicants for admission to the school, as did the physical remaking of the campus created by two major building programs, “UConn 2000” funded in 1995 and “21st Century UConn” in 2003, totaling $2.3 billion dollars in state bonding. These marked significant achievements during the presidencies of Harry Hartley, 1990-1996, and Philip E. Austin, 1996-2008, at a time when UConn became ranked as the leading public university in New England.
However, an educational institution has to be judged by more than athletic victories and bricks and mortar. As these improved, so did the quality and diversity of students applying to the school and efforts to enhance academic rigor through curriculum reform, strengthened honor programs, research success in areas such as reproductive genetics, the establishment of a Humanities Institute, and endowed chairs to attract outstanding faculty. By the 21st century, the tiny local school that began as a place to train farmers in 1881 had become a nationally recognized undergraduate and research institution with campuses throughout the state as well as in Storrs.
Bruce M. Stave is Board of Trustees Distinguished Professor of History Emeritus and Director of the Oral History Office at the University of Connecticut.
Officers were called to the PT Barnum Apartments complex around 2 a.m. for a preliminary report of a person with a gunshot wound, police said in a tweet Monday morning.
Peter Perillo, a hotel general manager in Milford, said his top priorities include public safety, education and lower taxes.
A retired FedEx employee, Jack Hennessy is a long-time member of the legislature seeking another two-year term representing Bridgeport.
Activist Wanda Simmons, who petitioned her way onto the November ballot, spends much of her free time volunteering.
Ethan Book, who operates New England Limousine Service of Fairfield, has run, unsuccessfully, for City Council, mayor and for the state legislature.
Christopher Rosario, who is seeking his fourth term, previously worked for the City of Bridgeport overseeing anti-blight programs.
Goncalves, a Democrat and former member of the Shelton Board of Education, will try again to unseat incumbent Republican Ben McGorty this November.
A first-time candidate for state representative, Bridgeport resident Helene Kouassi is the founder and CEO of the nonprofit Hope Health Care.
Running on the Independent line, Robert Halstead is once again in the race for a state representative seat in Bridgeport.
Incumbent Steve Stafstrom, a Black Rock resident who works as an attorney, won a special election in February 2015.
Charlie Stallworth has been a state representative in Bridgeport for a decade. He is a senior pastor at East End Baptist Church.
Ex-state lawmaker Robert Keeley served Bridgeport for 25 years until he lost a primary in 2008. He currently runs the Orcutt youth club.
A lifelong Ansonia, Myra Rivers is a college student and biological, radiological and nuclear specialist in the U.S. Army Reserves.
Nicole Klarides-Ditria served three terms as Seymour’s deputy first selectman before being elected to the state House in 2017.
Chris Bowen, a Democratic member of Seymour’s Board of Selectmen, is a cellular engineer at Ventus Technology.
JP Sredzinski is seeking his fourth consecutive term, with a focus on making CT more affordable and improving public safety.
Police said the two men were shot within a few hours of each other, one in a neighborhood and the other in a bar.
The decapitated statue of Christopher Columbus in Waterbury will have its head reattached, regardless of where a referendum determines it should relocate.
Rainfall for the month is averaging slightly more than half the normal 4.5 inches of precipitation.
The opening of bridges between Stratford and Milford and in Greenwich may mean delays on Metro-North between 10 and 11 a.m. Sunday.
By Steve Thornton
Industry by Evelyn Longman in her studio, Chiselhurst-on-Farmington, Loomis Chaffee – Photograph from the collection of the Loomis Chaffee School Archives, Loomis Chaffee School, Windsor, CT
Connecticut has no shortage of war memorials or statues featuring prominent business and political leaders. The celebration of the state’s ordinary working people, however, is almost nowhere to be found. One exception is Industry (sometimes referred to as The Craftsman) in Hartford. It is a striking example of a working man, created in 1931 by Evelyn Beatrice Longman and prominently displayed on the campus of the A. I. Prince Technical High School on Flatbush Avenue.
The bronze sculpture portrays a worker sitting and reading—his jacket thrown across a wooden chair. Dressed in rough clothes, worn work shoes, and rolled-up sleeves, his concentration is intense. In one hand is a tool of his trade; at his feet are machine parts. On his lap is a set of schematics. He is concentrating, and perhaps, puzzling out a repair.
Dedication of Industry took place on September 16, 1931, at the Hartford Trade School on Washington Street. The school and the statue moved to Hartford’s south end in 1960.
Evelyn Beatrice Longman, Industry, 1931, bronze sculpture, State of Connecticut A. I. Prince Regional Vocational-Technical School – Smithsonian American Art Museums, Art Inventories Catalog
The granite foundation on which the sculpture sits does not include the name of Longman’s work. Instead the words chiseled into the stone base read: “Given in honor of the pioneers of industry in the city of Hartford, men whose memory is revered, whose influence survives to inspire succeeding generations.”
The subject and the dedication seem like a mismatch. Industry clearly does not depict an “industrial pioneer”; the subject is a skilled worker, the kind employed by the pioneers. He is the nameless working man who made the pioneers successful. But the Connecticut Manufacturers Association commissioned and paid for the statue, so they had the last word.
In fact, around the time officials dedicated the statue, Connecticut was a hotbed of militant union organizing. Leading up to the unveiling of Industry, there were a dozen labor strikes throughout the state: textile workers in Putnam and New London, fur workers in Danbury, necktie and shirt makers in New Haven, and laborers in Newtown. Even unemployed workers struck—they were in a city-sponsored relief program at Hartford’s Brainard airfield and stopped work until they won transportation, food allowance, and a dollar-a-day raise.
Industry is not Longman’s only worker-themed sculpture, however. In 1911, the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire took the lives of 146 New York immigrant garment workers, some as young as 14. The reckless tragedy spurred safety reforms and union organizing. A year after the fire, survivors dedicated the Triangle Fire Memorial to the Unknowns for the six victims who remained unidentified. The public never knew who created the monument, and it was only recently that Evelyn Longman received the credit for it.
Profile portrait of Evelyn Longman – Photograph from the collection of the Loomis Chaffee School Archives, Loomis Chaffee School, Windsor, CT
Evelyn Longman moved her New York studio in 1920 to the campus of Loomis School in Windsor, Connecticut, thanks to a commission she received to create a piece in honor of Nathaniel Batchelder’s late wife. Batchelder was the headmaster at Loomis; he and Longman eventually married. Batchelder proceeded to build her a studio with train tracks running through it—allowing clay and stone deliveries to arrive directly to her workshop.
By the time Longman completed Industry she was firmly established in her field. Besides a variety of local installations (many of which were full of military symbolism, including Spirit of Victory, a Spanish-American War memorial in Bushnell Park), Longman’s work appeared at the 1904 St. Louis World’s Fair, she became the only artist for whom Thomas Edison agreed to sit, and around 1920, she began a commission to work on the Lincoln Memorial. There Longman created a number of decorative wreaths cut in stone and, it is said, she sculpted the humble rail-splitter’s hands from Georgia granite.
Steve Thornton is a retired union organizer who writes for the Shoeleather History Project
A Westport man was charged Friday after police said he showed up at the Democratic Town Committee office yelling profanities and insults at volunteers.
State Police at Troop G in Bridgeport said there were no serious injuries.
There is a chance of showers from Monday through Thursday.
by Andy Piascik
In its early, freewheeling years during the 1920s, the National Football League (NFL) primarily located teams in small and medium-sized cities. Toledo, Akron, Providence, and Decatur all hosted NFL franchises during those years, with varying success. For one season, Hartford, too, played host to the NFL. It was a season racked with challenges.
In 1924, sports promoter George Mulligan established the Waterbury Blues as an independent football team. After one season in the Brass City, they moved to Hartford. The NFL accepted just about any half-way organized football operation during this time as long as the owner paid the league’s entrance fee, and Mulligan signed Hartford up for the 1926 season.
The Blues played their home games in the brand new Velodrome, a bicycle racing arena in East Hartford. After one exhibition game, the Blues made their official NFL debut on September 26, 1926, with many of the same players as the previous year. Playing before an estimated crowd of 6,500 at the Velodrome, the Blues lost to the New York Giants, 21-0.
Hartford Blues fall schedule, 1926. Published in the Hartford Courant, July 13, 1926
After three more losses, the Blues won for the first time, on October 24, by beating the Brooklyn Lions, 16-6. That game also took place in the Velodrome, though attendance slipped down to 1,000. After a fifth defeat, the Blues won their second game on November 7, again in the Velodrome, by a 16-7 score over the Canton Bulldogs. The attendance for that game reached 4,500.
The Blues won for the third time, over the Dayton Triangles, on November 21, by a score of 21-0. That win raised Hartford’s record to 3-6 and proved to be their last victory of the season and, as it turned out, their NFL history. Heavy rain plagued the Blues on game days, keeping attendance down, and several times the rain became so severe in the Hartford area that officials cancelled the games.
As the cold winter weather approached and with the team’s poor performance dragging down local interest (attendance slid below 1,000 for each of the last three home games), Mulligan cancelled several home games scheduled for December. Mulligan paid most players on a per-game basis and apparently decided to save money by simply cancelling games that did not figure to bring in enough revenue to cover costs. On the plus side, the Blues saved on travel expenses by playing only two road games. Hartford’s final NFL game was a 16-0 loss to the Duluth Eskimos in the Velodrome on November 27. The Blues finished the season 3-7.
Though the season was hardly a success, Hartford fans who attended games had the opportunity to see some of the best football players in the world. Among the stars who played against the Blues in Hartford that year were two who played for the Blues in Waterbury: Harry Stuhldreher, one of the famed Four Horsemen of Notre Dame, who played for Brooklyn in 1926, and Steve Owen of the Giants, who earned enshrinement in the Pro Football Hall of Fame in 1966.
Display advertisement for the Hartford Blues Football Season Tickets, Hartford Courant, September 25, 1926.
Other greats who played against the Blues at the Velodrome were Ernie Nevers and Johnny “Blood” McNally of Duluth, Guy Chamberlin of the Frankford Yellow Jackets, and Pete Henry of Canton. The one and only Jim Thorpe was also on the Canton roster that year but unable to play in the game in Hartford because of injury. Like Owen, all became members of the Hall of Fame. Also of note was the appearance in Hartford of one of the five African Americans in the NFL in 1926, Sol Butler of Canton.
In 1927 the NFL looked to reduce the number of teams in the league and voted to drop Hartford from its ranks. Mulligan subsequently renamed the team the “Hartford Giants” and they posted a 7-1 record as an independent team in 1927 before disbanding.
In 1973 and 1974, the New York Giants played their home games at the Yale Bowl in New Haven while renovations took place at Yankee Stadium (their former home) and workers finished construction on Giants Stadium, (their future home). The arrangement was strictly temporary, however,
and all of the team’s administrative offices remained in Manhattan. So nearly a century after their moment in the sun, the Hartford Blues remain the only NFL franchise ever truly to call Connecticut home.
Bridgeport native Andy Piascik is an award-winning author who has written for many publications and websites over the last four decades. He is also the author of two books.
The school was informed the act did not amount to a crime under state law after consulting with the State’s Attorney’s Office, university officials said.
The term “herd immunity” once actually applied to herds of cattle, and then it was used to describe groups of people.
A teen from Plantsville was charged with interfering with an officer from an incident in July.
The victim was transported to St. Vincent’s Medical Center for treatment of injuries that were sustained during the altercation, police said.
The state Criminal Justice Commission tied on the two candidates for the new inspector general position for police accountability.
Two men face gun charges after an incident of shots fired prompted two school lockdowns in Hartford on Thursday.
Police have released information about the alleged suspects and their vehicle involved in a commuter lot double-fatal shooting last month in Manchester.
U.S. Drought Monitor says that 99 percent of the state has abnormally dry or drought conditions. Last week, it was 83 percent.
Two people were fatally shot in the city over the span of about 12 hours in Bridgeport on Thursday.
Picking the Hearst Top Workplaces list is done by a scientific survey of 24 questions that reveal a company’s culture, not just benefits.
Candace Adams has spent 20 years at Berkshire Hathaway HomeServices New England Properties, Westchester Properties and New York Properties.
ICON International specializes in buying out unwanted goods, then arranging for media, marketing and advertising purchases.
EBP Supply Solutions CEO Meredith Reuben has helped her family’s business navigate unprecedented challenges in 2020.
Top midsize winners in the 2020 Hearst Top Workplaces contest were Barnum Financial, HAI Group and Splash Car Wash.
The top small employer winners in the 2020 Hearst Top Workplaces contest are Criterion, Autism Behavioral Health and Greenwich Emergency Medical Service.
The top large winners in the 2020 Hearst Top Workplaces contest are Berkshire Hathaway HomeServices New England Properties, Indeed and Wheeler.
A year ago in the introduction to our Top Workplaces coverage, I wrote, “these are strange times for the economy,” as times were good for many companies and unemployment stood at record lows — yet Connecticut wasn’t growing.
We couldn’t know how strange, how scary, how tragic and how heroic Connecticut’s workplaces could become. With the coronavirus partial shutdown and restart, companies have had to face a sort of uncertainty that no one can really prepare to handle in advance.
And yet, preparation — along with compassion and creativity — showed themselves in abundance at the 49 employers that made the list of winners in the Hearst Connecticut Top Workplaces contest of 2020.
While last year’s challenges, for many, centered on finding good people or fostering growth, this year has been about adapting in ways we could not have imagined a year ago.
At Berkshire Hathaway HomeServices New England Properties (1st place among large employers for the third consecutive year), that meant enduring a spring season with few sales but a lot of preparation for a comeback in the summer, with changes such as open houses bunched together and of course, new heights of virtual house tours.
BHHS has 19 locations and nearly 800 employees, many of them agents, in the three counties covered by the Hearst Connecticut Top Workplaces — Fairfield, New Haven and Litchfield.
Several newcomers to Top Workplaces took high honors this year, including Criterion, a small but global software developer in Norwalk, (1st place, small employers with CEO Sunil Reddy winning the top leadership award in that category); Autism Behavioral Health, a Danbury company that’s the only one on the list founded in the last seven years (2nd place,...
At the Norwalk software maker, “they can challenge me, they can argue with me. I’m not a big believer in the skateboards and the dogs to the work and all that.”
By Austin Sullivan
In front of the state capitol lies a monument that holds roots in our nation’s bloodiest conflict. It is simple yet powerful; dedicated to the men of the First Connecticut Heavy Artillery Regiment. As taken from the Official Souvenir and Program released at its unveiling; it was the expressed wishes of the veterans for the monument to memorialize the fallen, and to teach future generations to answer their country’s call when the time comes.
The 1st Connecticut was created from the former Fourth Connecticut Volunteer Infantry on January 2, 1861, in Washington, DC. A typical regiment was divided into ten companies, with one hundred soldiers apiece. Trained in the use of artillery, the 1st Connecticut helped defend the Union capital until April of 1862. From there, they became attached to the Army of the Potomac for General McClellan’s Peninsula campaign. The regiment was involved in siege operations around Yorktown from April 12th to May 4th. Following the siege, the First became involved in what was later known as the Seven Days Battle, facing off against Robert E. Lee’s Army of Northern Virginia. The Heavies, as Bruce Catton called Heavy Artillery Regiments in A Stillness at Appomattox, fought at Gaines Mill on June 27th and Malvern Hill on July 1st. Following McClellan’s retreat from the peninsula, the Heavies again took up arms in Washington’s defense.
Companies B and M of the regiment, however, were given a different task. The two were detached to the Army of the Potomac. From there they were involved in the disastrous Battle of Fredericksburg in mid-December, 1862. They were still in the army when Lee achieved his greatest victory at Chancellorsville in May of 1863. Both were also present to witness Lee suffer his terrible defeat at Gettysburg in July of the same year. The two companies remained in the army until January of 1864, when they rejoined the First in Washington.
“Dictator” – The Traveling Mortar in Front of Petersburg, 1864. The mortar was unique in that it was mounted on a rail car. Photograph from Francis Trevelyan Miller’s The Photographic History of the Civil War, Vol. V, 1911.
The regiment performed garrison duty around the capital until May of 1864, when they were deployed south to Virginia. There, Major General Benjamin Butler had led the Army of the James up towards Richmond. His objective was to keep Confederate troops in the area in place. This was part of an overall strategy by Lieutenant General Ulysses Grant to bleed Lee’s army white as it fought the Army of the Potomac in the Overland Campaign. Butler, however, became trapped south of Richmond in Bermuda Hundred; an area sandwiched between the James and Appomattox rivers. The Heavies reinforced Butler on May 13, 1864. The army remained alone until Grant maneuvered south of Richmond, towards the town of Petersburg.
While small, Petersburg’s railways provided the logistics to support Richmond and its garrison. Capturing the rail hub meant the starvation of the Confederate capital. When the initial assault in taking the town failed, the army began the famous Siege of Petersburg. Still in Bermuda Hundred, the First dug what was one of the most significant systems of trenches used during the Civil War. Conditions along the lines were deplorable. The Hartford Courant said it best in its issue of September 22, 1902, when it noted that “veterans who were there are the only ones who can feel the reality and strain on courage and endurance.”
During the 11-month siege, the Heavies provided valuable artillery support to the besieging Federals. As noted in the June 5, 1896, issue of the Hartford Courant, the First fired over 63,940 rounds from various types of artillery, equivalent to 1,200 pounds of iron. The most notable of their actions involved silencing a formidable Confederate position. Known as “The Chesterfield Battery,” it was situated behind Petersburg. Well placed, it threatened the right side of the Federal lines. To deal with the threat, Butler ordered a 13-inch seacoast mortar sent to Petersburg in early July. A section of railway was located behind Federal lines, allowing the mortar to be placed on a rail car.
The Express during the siege of Petersburg. The First Connecticut Heavies fired 218 rounds from the Express – Library of Congress, Prints and Photographs Division, Civil War photographs
Command of the weapon was given to the Heavies, manned by a section from Company G. Starting on July 8, the mortar began firing on Confederate positions. Firing from the rail car, and a fixed platform, it was essential in silencing the troublesome Chesterfield Battery. Being placed on a rail car, the mortar received a nickname, the “Petersburg Express.” The First and the Express continued their work at the end of the month, when General Ambrose Burnside launched his audacious Mine assault. The plan, to create a hole in Confederate land with a massive underground explosion, was met with abject failure. During the bloody day of July 30, the Heavies fired 19 shells from the mortar, which helped keep the Rebels from exploiting their victory.
In the months following the failed Battle of the Mine, the mortar was withdrawn to Fort Monroe, Virginia. As winter brought forth a new year, Companies B, G, and L were briefly detached to help capture Fort Fisher in North Carolina. The regiment continued supporting the siege until the town was captured on April 2nd. Following the collapse of the Confederacy, the Heavies engaged in garrison duty in Virginia until July 11th. From there, the regiment was brought back to Washington, where they became part of the garrison for a few months. The First Connecticut was officially mustered out of service on September 25, 1865. The total enrollment of officers and men during its existence came to 3,802. The casualties for the Heavies reflect the long-standing notion that more soldiers died off the battlefield than on it. Only two officers and 49 enlisted men were killed or mortally wounded, while four officers and 172 enlisted fell by disease. In total, the First Connecticut Heavy Artillery Regiment suffered 227 casualties defending the Union.
Plans to commemorate the Heavies did not get underway until the early 1890s. The General Committee and Regimental Association, formed from veterans of the First, brought up the subject in 1892. The general consensus was to use the famed “Petersburg Express” for the monument. Captain Frank Miller found the mortar at Fort Monroe, where it had been left. Initially, the Captain had trouble identifying which mortar was the right one; there were two likely choices that had been built at the same time, their foundry numbers 94 and 95. However, as the Hartford Courant noted on September 22, 1902, a sergeant in the fort’s Ordinance Department recognized number 95 as the one, from a broken lug at the top of the mortar. Miller was able to bring the weapon to Bridgeport in 1896, with the help of fellow veteran and congressman, Charles Russell. There, the weapon stayed for several years.
There were problems, initially, gathering the necessary funds for the monument. In an effort to have the monument erected in his city, the mayor of Bridgeport offered to donate $25,000 (equivalent to over half a million dollars today) for the mortar to be placed in Seaside Park. The committee, however, declined the generous offer. Regimental Historian John C. Taylor explained the reasoning in a Hartford Courant editorial dated June 13, 1896. He reasoned that the Fourth Connecticut was mustered in Hartford, hence having ties to the city. The regiment also wanted the mortar on capitol grounds; in order to provide future generations with an object important to local history and one that symbolized the commitment with which Connecticut gathered men to fight for the Union. Discussion regarding where to place the mortar carried into the 20th century. Interestingly, the June 14, 1900, issue of the Hartford Courant made its first mention of the alternate nickname of the mortar, “Dictator.”
In time, enough money was raised to make the goal of the committee possible. The Official Program had the total amount of funds at $6,136.43 (close to $145,000 today). An interesting note is that the state only gave $1,000 to the fund; the rest was donated by other groups. Over a third of the fund was given by William and Morgan Bulkeley; it was a memorial to their brother Charles, who lost his life at Petersburg. The contract and $5,500 were awarded to Stephen Maslen of Hartford. Maslen was the head of a monumental works that carried his name. The mortar and its carriage were placed on a pedestal made of granite. The monument was dedicated on September 25, 1902, the anniversary of the day the regiment mustered out. While the exact number of spectators is unknown, the Hartford Courant stated that provisions were made for 2,500 people, with the probability of up to 50,000 attending. While it had taken a long time, the Heavies finally had their monument.
For a while after the commemoration, the “Petersburg Express” kept itself in the Hartford Courant. Just four years later, on Independence Day, Taylor met with J. J. Porter, a former lieutenant in the Army of Northern Virginia. In November 1910, an article from the Courant talked about Archibald G. McIlwaine Jr., the president of the Oriental Insurance Company. He was Virginia-born and had survived the Siege of Petersburg with his mother. The mortar again became public focus at the start of the Great Depression. There was a letter to the editor that called for the weapon to be dumped in the Hog River, with a rebuttal a week later from the daughter of a First Connecticut veteran. It was part of a larger dispute regarding a captured German cannon placed in the city, but there was nothing more on the matter of the mortar.
The next mention of the “Petersburg Express” held a more hopeful tone. In 1935, the Department of the Interior constructed a concrete replica of the mortar, in the exact spot it had been during the siege. The replica lasted until 1969, when it was destroyed. This was intentional, as the Petersburg National Battlefield Park received an actual mortar through a trade with Fort Sumter.
Former Confederate Captain Carter Bishop stands by the concrete replica of the famed mortar at Petersburg, Virginia, in 1935. Photograph from “Construction of Replica Petersburg Express” by Manning C. Voorhis – National Park Service
Beginning in the 1950s, there was considerable doubt that the mortar was the actual “Petersburg Express.” This first came to the attention of the Hartford Courant in 1958. Their September 28th issue ran an article which referred to a mortar in Oneonta, New York. The local newspaper, The Star, claimed that the mortar there bore a greater similarity to the “Express.” Using “A Photographic History of the Civil War,” the newspaper compared photographs of the mortar during the siege with current ones from Hartford. They concluded that the two were not the same, citing differing positions of hooks on the mortars and that the Hartford mortar lacked an eye for hoisting. The article concluded, however, that the data was inconclusive; there was a probability that the photos were altered post-war. Following this issue, the Courant ran an article which countered the New York claim. The claim came from a Manchester resident, who had a grandfather in the First Connecticut. His grandfather left behind relics of the regiment’s reunions, which included photographs of the mortar. When compared, the Hartford mortar and the “Petersburg Express” matched.
Those claims have still have not gone away. It is the opinion of Dean Nelson, Administrator at The Museum of Connecticut History, that the mortar on capitol grounds is not the “Express.” His main argument involves the weight of the mortar. During the Civil War, most artillery pieces had their weight marked on the muzzle. This process is corroborated by the work of Historian John L. Morris, who investigated the identity of the mortar in the mid-1980s. Both base the weight of the “Petersburg Express” from a sketch drawn during the siege. It was drawn by an H. E. Valentine of the Seventh New York Heavy Artillery. Among the words etched on the lower right corner is “RR mortar. July 13, 1864. 17, 186 pds.” The weight marked on the muzzle is also the same. This is contrasted by recent photos of the Hartford monument by Nelson. The weight on that muzzle is 17,197 pounds. In his research, Morris theorized the mortar at Hartford, while not at Petersburg, served with the Heavies during the siege of Yorktown. He drew this from the fact that the First was supplied with multiple mortars from the same source, Fort Monroe.
Sketch of the Petersburg Express by H. E. Valentine of the Seventh New York Heavy Artillery Regiment. The numbers on the muzzle, 17,186, provide fuel for the controversy whether the monument is the real Petersburg Express.
As of now, the identity of the Hartford mortar still remains in doubt. The claims of the regiment and the Hartford Courant are challenged by modern historians. It is possible that Frank Miller made an error when searching for the mortar. Over 40 years elapsed between the end of the war and the erection of the monument. While the monument may not have the correct mortar, Morris argues that it is still historically significant. By the time he had conducted his research, only 26 out of 162 seacoast mortars had avoided being scrapped. The Hartford piece still symbolizes the courage and sacrifice made by the First Connecticut in defense of the Union.
Austin Sullivan is a graduate student at Central Connecticut State University; he is a native of Stafford Springs, Connecticut, and holds a bachelor of arts degree in social sciences from Lyndon State College.
This article was published as part of a semester-long graduate student project at Central Connecticut State University that examined Civil War monuments and their histories in and around the State Capitol in Hartford, Connecticut.
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The Democratic governor said the 26-year-old emergency medical worker’s “future was ahead of her” and “died absolutely needlessly.”
Police were called to the area of Union Avenue on a preliminary report of a shooting, the Bridgeport Police Department said in a tweet at 7:59 p.m. Thursday.
“We’re enforcing these policies because every violation potentially can have a negative impact on your health and on the health of multiple others in the QU community,” a school official said. “I fervently hope we don’t encounter these circumstances again.”
Already facing charges he stealing $270,000 from a PAC he was running for CT Republicans, an Avon lawyer was arrested on identity theft, forgery charges.
Naugatuck police are conducting an internal investigation into a dispute between an officer and a driver this week.
