From the Vineyard Gazette edition of March 28, 1969:

The debate as to the extension of the airport runways is wholesome even though from one point of view it is belated. To counter the accusation of tardiness, critics of the project emphasize that their opposition rests primarily upon technological advances in aviation which were not anticipated when the runway extensions were approved.

The objection is not to jets, as such. Trueman Place, airport manager, pointed out last week that jets already operate to the field. The objection is to the type of jets and the operation which is believed will not improve commuting service, to both the expenditure and the physical destruction, the necessity in each case being questioned, and to the likelihood of future use of so huge an airport on the Island. If this were made available as an alternate terminus for trans-Atlantic travel, as an alternate for Otis Field, or for the super-sonic planes now being developed, the results would be disastrous.

The debate, as most Islanders recognize, is wholesome. There is a body of factual information that should be obtained and presented clearly and promptly.

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Some among the more recent generations wonder why the central flatland of the Vineyard was anciently called, and is often still called, Willie’s Plain. The reason is that much of the region once belonged to Will Lay, enough of it at any rate to associate his name with the extensive tract, and in time the name became corrupted to Willie’s.

Back in 1927 the late Charles H. Brown wrote an imaginary dialogue with the last of the heath hens, concluding with these lines:

My boom shall ne’er be hear again.

Last of my race on Willie’s Plain

The term Great Plain is more properly applied to that which extends from Edgartown to Katama, the South Beach, and Edgartown Great Pond. This is not so great as Willie’s Plain, but it is much flatter and hence more of a plain.

The airport controversy has again brought close attention to the central region of scrub oak and the remarkable channels or bottoms that once carried streams to the great ponds along South Beach. Woodworth and Wigglesworth, in their Geology suggest that the west banks of the bottoms are invariably steeper because the rotation of the earth deflected the streams from the melting glacier.

There is no doubt that Willie’s Plain is a far more interesting and rewarding region than most people imagine. Back in 1921 Charles H. Brown and Beriah T. Hillman, worthy controversialists, disputed in the Gazette about the value of the road from Edgartown to West Tisbury. They held different views as to the scenery, but they could not disagree about its drama and quality.

Mr. Hillman wrote: “There are places on this road where views may be had of scenery that is unique and beautiful. One of the most charming pictures is a sunset of a hazy October evening viewed from this roadway. . . . Those western hills viewed from the old road always make a charming picture, and there is a quaint beauty in the level plain with clumps of trees fringing its margin, and here and there a lonely tree standing forth like a sentinel.”

Mr. Brown replied: “The charm of the plain is the charm of the desert places — the scant and thorny herbage, the parching winds by day, the frosts at night, and even the whirring prairie chicken. Another marvel of the Vineyard! A bit of the western prairie preserved in New England with the last remnant of the rightful tenants nesting at home.”

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When the sun rises early in a clear sky, and the temperature almost leaps from its nighttime low of 32 to a heartening 42 within, say, an hour and a half; and the white frost on crisped winter grass changes even more quickly to a relaxed sparkling — then a spring day on the Vineyard has its proper beginning.

The woods are still black and chill, though no longer lifeless; it is time to look for mayflowers and for the incredibly tender spires of the skunk cabbage.

In the open country the redwings sing their monotonous kree-kree-kree, now a glad sound though in a few weeks it will be tiresomely raucous. Larger in volume and variety than ever before in a Vineyard spring, the whistling and rejoicing of the cardinals claims irresistibly a response from all who hear; and the mourning doves imitate the effect of blowing patiently into a bottle.

This is spring at its best, farewell to March, the welcome to April. But on another morning, and another, Vineyarders will hear in early radio reports that mainland cities have a rush of real warmth — temperatures in the 70s as the day begins. And over the Island will be a thick, dripping fog, unwelcome product of our own natural cooling system — a system we wish would defer its operation until July. And the fog horns of Nobska and West Chop and the bell of the Edgartown Harbor Light will mourn the delay of the elusive warmth and cheer and spring fever.

Compiled by Hilary Wall
library@mvgazette.com