From March 15, 1957 edition of the Vineyard Gazette:
We might as well face it, the Vineyard is not in its most pleasing aspect at the moment, and indeed looks more than a little frowsy as it faces up to spring. This is strictly in its man-made attractions, though, which look more shabby than they otherwise would, in the sunlight which is of hundredth power these brilliant March days and in contrast with the sea around us, which is playing chameleon with its quick and startling and supremely beautiful greens and blues and purples and lavenders and pink and, but seldom, grays.
Until mankind recovers from its winter nap and ventures forth to make all things spic and span again, and nature lends a hand by greening the still dun fields and visibly budding the trees — the willows are golden but nothing else is quite ready to respond — let us count the blessings that we have, in addition to the aforesaid sky and sea.
On a Sunday ride up-Island, with only Edgartown, Oak Bluffs and West Tisbury inspected, there were these matters to record:
Mrs. Mabel Johnson’s garden, virtually afloat in snowdrops.
The Mill Pond swans, waving their arms in abandon, in a springlike mood, but showing no signs at all of lurking in the covers and guarding a nest, or even building one.
Everybody out in the animal line, at Whiting Farms — cows, sheep, lambs, horses and chickens basking in the sunlight or cropping the still barely existent grass.
Parsonage Pond full to running over and showing some respectable waves in the brisk breeze.
Work in progress on the new summer cottage which Harold Rogers is building beyond the Locust Grove schoolhouse, back from the road in what was once another locust grove. Things are going along speedily, the windows are in and shingling has begun. The collie in that household finds building dull work and stayed at home that day to keep an eye on the premises.
A whirlwind descent to the brook at Fish Hook, halfway or more to the beach, by man and dog, the result, two sprigs of mayflower with buds so minute that they needed a microscope for inspection, but which the recipient was assured would bloom in the warmth of the house.
It’s hard to believe that in two short months, perhaps two and a half before Memorial Day, hundreds of gallons of paint, mostly white, will have been applied, thousands of nails driven, hundreds of lawns raked and seeded, many more scores of houses rented for the season, quantities of visitors will have poured in and off the Island just to see what’s what with us, or more likely, to inspect their holdings, dozens of houses will somehow be finished no matter how hopeless that task looks just now, the stores will be blossoming with new goods, new clerks and summer manners, and even that Edgartown sensation, a hotel swimming pool, will be in order, one more evidence of man’s triumph over the most adverse weather conditions and a lot of equally pressing problems.
Truly, life is wonderful, but the life of a summer resort may be the most fantastically unbelievable of all.
If anyone should take a quick look, he might well believe that “Old MacDonald” had moved his farm, complete as to machinery and equipment, to Duarte’s Corner, on the Beach Road, Vineyard Haven. Struck by the realization that horse-drawn farm equipment is becoming so rare as to be a distinct curiosity in this part of the country, M. S. Duarte, the owner of the corner and proprietor of various business establishments there, has established a veritable Farmyard Park in the center of the circular driveway.
Here are assembled some forty pieces of farm equipment, all of the horse-drawn variety, and ranging in age from a possible ten years to more than sixty. The “creaking wain” is there, a four-horse hitch, to be exact; the plows, both the “landside” type and the “swivel.” Old fashioned cultivators, of a type used three-quarters of a century ago, stand side by side with the “riding” cultivator of more modern date. There are various “soil-scratchers,” “hillers” and “weeders,” to say nothing of the “planters,” and all of them have been painted in colors similar to those they bore when purchased. Attached to them are all the necessary “whiffle-trees,” “eveners,” “clevises,” and “neck-yokers.”
Inside the nearby building, but destined to be displayed also, are corn-shellers, churns, butter-making machines, a cider-press, and other equipment, all in common use on the well ordered farm or in the dairy of close to three quarters of a century ago. Looking at these things, all made obsolete through the adoption of modern-driven machinery, one realized the speed of modern progress as never before.
In their day, all these things were inventions, revolutionary and valued for their labor and time-saving capabilities. Today they are not ancient enough to be antiques, perhaps, but they are as obsolete as bucked shoes and as rare, on the Island at least, as the dodo.
Compiled by Hilary Wallcox
library@vineyardgazette.com
This article appears in March 13, 2026.