When the Acadian Orchardist published its mid-November issue in 1903, the steamship Brunswick was running out of Canning on the Monday morning tide on its weekly trip to Wolfville, Bass River and Saint John. An advertisement for the Brunswick by the Minas Basin Steamship Company also announced “fortnightly trips” to Maitland, with calls at Parrsboro and Spencer’s Island.

On an inside page was a notice for a special train run from Kentville to Windsor, with stops in-between, so the public could attend a “grand opera.”

In the eight-page issue, 21 advertisements flogged a variety of patent medicines. Wm. Regan, a Wolfville merchant, offered “horse goods of every description”; the Thompson Bicycle Manufacturing Company announced its line of new bikes and repair service; stove coal from Cape Breton was touted; and three railroads – the Midland, the Canadian Pacific and the Dominion Atlantic – published schedules of their daily runs, the latter two including steamship connections with Europe and the States.

Steamships, trains, bicycles, stove coal, horse goods and patent medicines. These advertisements for goods and services tell us much about life in the Annapolis Valley at the turn of the century.

Besides the obvious inference that people in the early days of the 20th century seemed obsessed with minor ailments, we can draw other conclusions about that period from the Orchardist. Horses, railways, boats, bicycles and shank’s mare were the means of transportation. There were few automobiles around when this issue was printed and even fewer roads an automobile could navigate. The roads in 1903 were “fit only for foot travel and horseback and barely fit for horse and wagon outside the towns.”

For long runs, the trips to the distant major centres of 1903, people took the train or a steamship. The trains and steamers also offered short run trips. The advertisements tell us a citizen could jump on a steamer at Canning and sail to Wolfville and other points on the Minas Basin, or catch a train and travel east or west along the Valley floor.

Winter was setting in when this issue of the Orchardist reached the public. Understandably, there were advertisements for Cape Breton coal, wool-filled blankets at only $2.75 each, Stanfield’s Unshrinkable Underwear, winter coats and jackets and, of course, the inevitable cold and croup remedies.

While the issue wasn’t heavy on advertisements – the ad content was about 40 per cent and most ads were tiny – there is something revealing about them. Of the 68 advertisements in the issue, only three contained telephone numbers! Since the paper covered an area from Hants Border west to Berwick and took in the then major towns of Canning, Wolfville and Kentville, this is surprising.

But on the other hand, there were few residential telephones at the time. Some homes in the area covered by the Orchardist wouldn’t receive telephone service until a quarter century later. This was the era of small, private telephone companies and they were located in various out-of-the-way places in the Valley.

On the mantle over a friend’s fireplace is a strange little musical instrument about the size and shape of a large round potato. The instrument has finger holes and a protruding mouthpiece which, when blown into, produces low, melancholy notes.

The little instrument can only sound a few notes compared to the flute or piccolo and it appears to be limited and primitive. Yet, using breath control and a variety of fingering, my friend can play a wide range of jigs and reels on it. When the friend first showed me the instrument some 40 years ago, he called it a “Sweet Potato.” I remember remarking at the time that it looked and sounded old. Over the years I’ve seen only one other Sweet Potato, which is its colloquial name. It was decades before I learned that the instrument is actually called an ocarina and that it is in-~ deed as primitive and as ancient as it looks.

In 1960, workers building a subway system in Mexico City dug up Aztec artifacts that were over 2,000 years old. Among the artifacts were several musical instruments, including an ocarina. Here was proof that my friend’s Sweet Potato was at least 20 centuries old and was played in the stone temples of the Aztecs during human sacrifices.

Other musical instruments perhaps better known and more common than the ocarina are just as ancient. Take, for example, a commonplace instrument with which everyone is familiar, the harmonica or mouth organ. People who look upon the harmonica as a modern blues instrument are surprised when told it was invented by the ancient Chinese.

The harmonica is said to be even older than the bagpipes, which can trace its ancestry back at least 2,000 years. Bagpipes almost identical to contemporary instruments were played in ancient Greece and carried with the Roman Legions. Most European countries have a version of the bagpipes which can be traced back to the time when civilisation was just starting. Few improvements have been made on them in that time.

Instruments such as the saxophone (patented in 1846 by Adolphe Sax) and even the piano are mere babies as musical instruments compared to the ocarina, harmonica and the bagpipes. But some musical instruments may be even more ancient. The panpipes are believed to be forerunner of the bagpipes. Variations of the panpipes were found in ancient Greece and China. The Japanese have several simple, four-holed flutes, believed to have been in use for at least 2,000 years, that are ancestors of the modern flute family. The oldest musical instruments may be the horn, the ancestor of modern day brasses such as the trumpet, trombone and tuba. Horns are said to have originated from hollow animal horns and shells such as the conch.

True or not, horns have been used by man since the bronze age. Some 3,000 years ago the natives of Scandinavia used a bronze trumpet called the lur. Earlier horns, such as the didgeridoo played by the Aborigines of Australia, were often made of wood.

Well before primitive man was blowing horns and whistles, he was beating out rhythms with sticks and bones. Early percussion instruments, the ancestor of drums, cymbals and xylophones were the first musical instruments.

No one told me when I started to write this column nine years ago that through it I’d meet all kinds of interesting people with diverse interests. But as my former colleagues at this newspaper can confirm, that is one of the perks of producing a weekly column.

The kind of people I’m taking about, for example, are like the gentleman I referred to as Yetzee in a column [three] weeks ago. Through Yetzee, I learned about the Frisian language and its amazing similarity to English. I’ve since been told that there is a Frisian dictionary and the language itself is almost identical to English as it was spoken in the 10th century.

Frisian is a major language in Holland and is spoken by well over 300,000 people – there was a “typo” in my earlier column and the figure came out as only 30,000. Frisian is also spoken in parts of Germany and Denmark. One reader who enjoyed the column on Frisian said it is a common error to refer to Frieslanders as “Dutch.” The Dutch and the Frieslanders speak different languages and often can only understand each other with great difficulty.

This column runs in a set space and at times there isn’t enough room to do justice to a topic. The column last week on L.S. Loomer’s history of Windsor and the area around it is an example. I have never read a book with so many tantalising historical asides – which, in my opinion, makes it all the more entertaining and educational – so at the risk of overkill, here is more about it.

Some of the topics Loomer casually mentions in passing are intriguing and they perked my interest – so much so that I wanted to learn more about them.

For example, wouldn’t you like to know more about the accomplishment that Loomer says has been a “secret well kept from the record books.” Loomer was referring to the astonishing Valley couple, Frank and Jennie Dill, who, in 1921, won a cross-Canada walking contest. The Dills left Halifax in February and walked to Vancouver in 134 days!

Glimpses of the early careers of some famous Valley men – W.H. Chase, George Nowlan and R.A: Joudrey, for example – are provided.

Both Aldershot Camp and Fort Edward were vital and busy training areas during the First World War. Loomer writes about the various regiments stationed at these depots, perhaps the most unusual being a unit recruited in the United States – the Jewish Legion. Loomer mentions that this unit had their own “rabbi, slaughterer, butcher, cookhouse and messing arrangements.” One of the soldiers in the unit was David Ben Gurion, later the president of Israel.

The gold rush era in Nova Scotia, most of us think of it as taking place farther afield and certainly not in or near the Annapolis Valley. But we had a gold rush here and Loomer devotes several pages to it.

The tale of the German adventurer, Franz von Ellershausen, who established a miniature German empire in Hants County in 1864 is covered briefly by Loomer. The story is the establishment of Ellershouse, and like most of the pages in Loomer’s book, whets the appetite for more.

To sum up Mr. Loomer’s history- and risking another cliché – it’s a good read, a heck of a good read.

At one point in his book on Windsor, L.S. Loomer notes that “this is not… a history of the railway.”

Mr. Loomer might also have protested that his book is not a history of the early settlement years in Nova Scotia, in particular the western end of the Annapolis Valley, nor an account of the long-running conflict the settlers had with Micmacs and Acadians.

However in his book Windsor, Nova Scotia, A Journey Into History, Mr. Loomer has produced more than an account of what at one time was the second most important centre in the province. In writing about Windsor, Loomer has also produced a fascinating and detailed history of a struggling young province that barely managed to survive the American revolution, the bumblings of the British, and the intrigues of the French and their Indian allies.

Throughout his book, Mr. Loomer never forgets that he is writing a history of Windsor. To accomplish this task, however, requires an overview of the province spanning a period of several hundred years. Loomer goes about this task admirably and the result is a history of-Windsor and a mini-history of Nova Scotia.

The reading of Loomer’s book was a learning experience and in some cases an eye-opener. Because there’s a touch of Acadian blood in my bones, I’ve always been sympathetic with our first settlers. But not any more. Loomer’s research indicates that in many cases the Acadians caused their misfortunes and the expulsion may have been avoided.

What has this to do with the history of Windsor you may ask? For one thing, the area in and around Windsor was an important Acadian settlement. For another, it’s difficult to write a history of any Nova Scotia town without reference to the influence of the Micmacs and Acadians.

To write his book, Mr. Loomer obviously did a tremendous amount of research. From the details and historical asides, this is evident throughout his book, especially in the first third of the volume. These early chapters alone are worth the price of admission. I know – a cliché! But if you would really like to understand how our province was shaped, read the early chapters alone and you will be well educated.

I’m a trivia buff, especially if it’s historical trivia. For me, Loomer’s book was a satisfactory read because of its wealth of historical trivia. Did you know, for example, that but for the hesitation of George Washington, Nova Scotia would have been invaded by America and likely would have become a U.S. state? Were you aware that three Fathers of Confederation obtained their early schooling in Windsor and one was a native of the town?

Were you aware that while the might of the American Revolutionary Army never fell on Nova Scotia, some Americans ignored George Washington and invaded the province, actually sailing up the Bay of Fundy and into the Minas Basin? What do you know about the coming of the railroad and the crucial role played by a prominent Valley man?

These fascinating tidbits on local history – and hundreds more like them – can be found in Loomer’s book. (Windsor, Nova Scotia, A Journey Into History, was published by the West Hants Historical Society, P.O. Box 2335, Windsor, N. S., B0N 2T0.)

Garlic has a strong odour some people find offensive. Ask the irate gentleman who wrote to condemn garlic the last time I mentioned it in this column.

“The stuff smells terrible and gives me severe heart-burns,” the writer said in effect. “Anyone eating it should be ostracised, along with people who smoke in public.”

Imagine equating tobacco smoke with the odour of garlic! While this seems a bit unfair, it indicates to me that there’s no middle ground when it comes to garlic. One either likes it with a passion or dislikes it to an extreme.

But whether you enjoy garlic, suffer it quietly, or detest it absolutely, you may be missing out if it isn’t a regular part of your diet. Evidence is mounting that eating garlic or taking it as a supplement is one of the smartest moves you can make when it comes to your well being.

At an international garlic symposium in Germany in 1995, for example, scientists gathered to summarise world-wide studies on garlic’s health benefits. The studies had high falutin’ titles in scientific jargon, but when translated into plain words the inference was clear. Garlic fights bad cholesterol, garlic powder is an anti-heart disease agent, garlic has a positive effect on high blood pressure, garlic may aid the body in producing anti-cancer agents, and so on.

As I said, the language was scientific but the tone was positive. That so much research was devoted to assessing the benefits of garlic is astounding and, if nothing else, an indication that it is more than a highly odorous herb.

There was another message in the studies. You don’t have to eat raw or cooked garlic with your food to obtain its health benefits. Garlic supplements in tablets or powder do the job as well – and they avoid that offensive by-products known as “garlic body odour” and “garlic breath”.

Currently garlic research is being done in nearly every developed country in the world. According to the garlic “home page” on the internet, the areas of interest include “cancer, diabetes, heart disease and stroke, antibacterial properties, antifungal use and much more.”

The internet page also mentioned that over 12 studies published around the world confirmed that garlic in several forms reduces high cholesterol – in some studies by as much as 12 per cent using supplements.

But enough of the science and studies guff. Even if, garlic was no more than a harmless plant, there’s another good reason for using it in your food. Garlic adds zing, zest and zip to most vegetable and meat dishes and often turns bland recipes into gourmet delights.

On the lighter side, garlic is held in esteem around the world. There is a garlic capital of the world – the community of Gilroy, California, which hosts an annual garlic festival.

Above I called garlic an herb but a news release from Gilroy’s Chamber of commerce noted that it is neither a spice, herb nor vegetable and is a member of the lily family.

Gilroy isn’t the only area that celebrates the wonders of garlic. In Great Britain there’s a garlic information centre which offers books, studies and oodles of information on the medical benefits of garlic.

A Dutch Canadian spoke these words – “kopke kofje” – when we were conversing over a cup of coffee. “You say ‘cup of coffee’ and in Frisian it’s “kopke kofje’.” “They’re almost the same words.”

Yetzee (I’m spelling his name phonetically and I hope I’ve got it right) is a Frieslander who comes from Frisia, a coastal region of Holland. In Frisia, the natives speak a language different than Dutch and Yetzee was giving me a few lessons. As we talked, he pointed out that many Frisian and English words were similar. “Our language is closer to English than Dutch,” he said.

Before he moved to Ontario to live with his son, Yetzee and I had many conversations about his language. I was amazed to find that he was right. Many words in Frisian are surprisingly similar to their English equivalent. There’s an important reason of course, but before I discovered that reason, I made a list of English and Frisian words that were identical and similar in sound after conversations with Yetzee.

Before I met Yetzee I had heard about the Frisians from another Dutch Canadian friend “Their national characteristic is stubbornness,” the friend said. “They’re noted for it.”

Yetzee never showed any of that “national characteristic” of the Frisians. Like his people in Friesland, he is a farmer. The Frisians – some 30,000 [correction: this number should be 300,000] speak the language according to a 1984 survey – farm the lowland dyke and canal area of coastal Holland and they honour the cow. In the main Friesland towns of Leeuwarden, a large statue of a milk-laden cow indicates the Frieslander’s devotion to agriculture.

In the old days, however, the Frisians were raiders and fighters; this, I discovered, is why many Frisian words are similar to English words. Yetzee’s vocabulary is living proof that the Frisian tongue was one of several languages that formed the basis of English.

In the fifth century AD, Yetzee’s ancestors were among a wave of Jutes, Angles and Saxons who invaded England after the withdrawal of the Roman legions. There is still some dispute as to whether the Jutes who settled in Kent were from Denmark or Friesland, but there is little doubt about the Frisian influence on our language.

Compare some Frisian words I learned from Yetzee to the English counterpart and the similarity between the languages is evident. We say butter, the Frisians say butter; we say dream and boat, the Frisians say dream and boat. Word pairs with great similarity (and words that would naturally come to mind for a lifelong farmer like Yetzee) are corn-koarn, wheat-weet and sheep-skiep.

I regret I didn’t have longer to talk with Yetzee and add more words to my Frisian list. But I ‘lucked out” recently when I ran into a man who was also interested in Frisian. He has spent some time on a farm with Frisians and, noticing the similarities in language, had made his own list. Here are some of his English-Frisian word pairs:

Rain-rien; cow-ko; dung-dong; lamb-lam; bull-bolle; and ox-okse. Note again that these are words from a farming environment. It is farming mainly that the Frieslanders of Holland are noted for today. As for the Frisian legendary stubbornness, I never noticed this trait in Yetzee when we were having our kopke kofje.

Most history books cover major events – wars, political change, social upheaval, mass movements of people, and so on.

These books deal with great people and great events. For the less cataclysmic phases of early life in Nova Scotia, one must turn to county histories and the histories of families, communities and towns that were written by historical societies and individuals.

These “little histories” are being turned out with regularity today, especially since the increase of interest in genealogy, and most bookstores are well stocked. Check out your local bookstore or your library and you’ll find many excellent books and papers on every aspect of early life in your community.

With the advent of the Internet, another source of local history is now available. Purely as a labour of love, and what can only be a passion for the past, various groups and individuals have posted historical papers and studies on Nova Scotia on the Net. Works of great depth and variety, from the trivial to the titanic, are now only a click of the mouse away.

One example is the work of retired schoolteacher, Ivan Smith of Canning. Mr. Smith has researched and written histories of electric utility and telephone companies of Nova Scotia. The site containing his work is called “little known portions of Nova Scotia history“, and this is precisely what it is. The Nova Scotia connection with the Knights Templar of the Oak Island treasure, the exploration of Nova Scotia from 1497 to 1650, Planter studies, historical society home pages, etc. are a few examples of what can be found at this site.

For depth and interest, Mr. Smith’s utility and telephone histories are typical of the papers at this site. It appears that at one time every Valley community of any significance operated a light and power company. A network of power lines ran from community to community, often serving a handful of consumers.

Shortly after the turn of the century, for example, five miles north of Kentville, the quiet community of Centreville operated an electric utility – from 1923 to 1931. The Centreville utility purchased power from the Canard Electric Light and Power Co., which in turn was connected to the Gaspereau River Light, Heat and Power Co.

There was a similar network of power utilities up and down the Valley, with connections from community to community. From Windsor westward, electric power was generated on the Avon and Gaspereau Rivers and these and other sources supplied privately owned companies. Mr. Smith’s paper shows that even communities the size of Kingsport, Waterville and Cambridge operated private utilities. There was a Sheffield Mills Electric Light Co., a Lower Horton Electric Co, a Pereaux Electric Light and Power co., and so on.

Many of these utilities began operation in the 20s and operated into the 30s before being swallowed up by larger operations. Some of the small operations in West Hants and throughout Kings County were purchased by the Avon River Power Co. for example. It’s a fascinating tale, this little-known aspect of Valley history, and Ivan Smith merits recognition for the work he has done on it.

“It is clear that the history of the deportation of the Acadians has not yet been either fully or truthfully described,” Henry Yould Hind wrote in 1889. “It is a heartrending story when the details are gathered and fitted together.”

This statement can be found on page 49 of Hind’s book on the old burying ground at Windsor. In a previous column, I wrote that while the book was mostly religious in content, there are many interesting historical foot-notes. Throughout the book, for example, Hind gives us asides on the plight of the Acadians, broadly hinting they were dealt with unfairly and treated inhumanely.

Scouring old records, Hind found an official return indicating that between 1761 and as late as March 1764, between 343 and 400 Acadians were held prisoner at Fort Edward, “The marvel of this report,” Hind wrote “appears to lie in the fact that on February 10th, 1763, a definite treaty of peace between Great Britain and France was signed at Paris.”

The question that first comes to mind is why so many Acadians remained in the province years after the expulsion. Hind provides an answer to this question, casting what he calls a “melancholy commentary on the actions of our predecessors.”

During the expulsion, many Acadians in the Windsor area escaped into the surrounding countryside, allying with the Micmacs and constantly harassing the New England settlers who had taken over their land. “Each year their strength was increased,” Hind said, “from those who stealthily returned from the New England or southern provinces, or by refugees who had fled to the woods from the devastated region about Grand Pre, the rivers Canard and Habitant.”

After several unsettled years, the Acadian escapees who hadn’t been hunted down were forced to surrender to the garrison at Fort Edward. “Those of the Acadians who were not killed were kept as prisoners when taken, many of them voluntarily surrendering in order to escape starvation,” Hind notes.

Once the Acadian problem was solved and most of the escapees were in custody, there appeared to be no reason other than revenge to hold hundreds of Acadians prisoner at Fort Edward. For a time, Hind says, there were actually more Acadian prisoners at Fort Edward in 1763 than there were “immigrant settlers in west Falmouth.”

Why were the Acadians held when peace existed between Great Britain and France? Oddly enough, the answer may lie with the condition of the dyked land surrounding the new settlements and a clue is provided by Hind.

“It must not be forgotten,” he wrote, “that during the year 1759, the year preceding the first settlement of Falmouth, a storm of very unusual character broke down the dykes and submerged the whole of the valuable dyked lands which has contributed to make the district…a populous Acadian colony.”

In a nutshell, the new settlers couldn’t cope with the dyke problem, but at Fort Edward there was not only captive manpower but expertise at dyke building. History does not tell us whether the Acadians went willingly or were forced into repairing the dykes but they did, at Windsor, Falmouth and later at Grand Pre and Canard.

In a column last fall on Hutchinson’s provincial directory for 1864-65, I mentioned Benjamin H. Calkin, listed as a Justice of the Peace and merchant, and asked if he might be connected with the old Valley firm of T.P Calkin.

Garth Calkin wrote to confirm that Benjamin was the founder of T.P. Calkin Ltd. Mr. Calkin, the grandson of the founder, said that Benjamin opened a general store in 1847 on the site now occupied by Kentville’s Town Hall. T.P. Calkin operated in Nova Scotia for well over a century, marking its 120th anniversary during Canada’s Centennial year.

Since mentioning Benjamin Calkin in this column, I came across a copy of the brochure published on the firm’s 10th anniversary in 1947. Reading it, I discovered that the founders of Kentville’s oldest retail stores started their business career with T.P. Calkin. One was the founder of Rockwell Limited, W. Wylie Rockwell, who was with Calkin for 40 years and was a partner when he started his own business in 1910. Fred E. Wade, who founded the Valley grocery chain F. E. Wade Ltd. in 1922, was a Calkin director, working with the firm for two decades.

From a modest store on Kentville’s Main street, T.P. Calkin eventually expanded into Halifax, the South Shore and down the Valley as far as Bridgetown. Before it was sold to Sumners, T.P. Calkin became one of the largest and most successful hardware and building supplies dealers in Nova Scotia.

Interest In Book

The column on the Sketch of the Old Parish Burying Ground of Windsor brought an unusual number of inquiries from readers hoping to obtain a copy of the book. I should have mentioned in the column that, to my knowledge, the book is not available in local bookstores. Readers who expressed an interest in the book as a genealogical resource can find a copy in the Kentville library. I haven’t checked, but it’s possible the book can also be found at Acadia University’s library and the Nova Scotia Archives.

I promised several readers I would let them know if I found a source for the book. It’s a long shot, but readers could try contacting the West Hants Historical Society (P.O. Box 2335, Windsor, B0N 2T0). The Society was responsible for the printing of Sketches, etc., in 1989 and may have copies available.

Glen Parker, editor of the Hants Journal, gave me names and telephone numbers of Historical Society officers and you may wish to call them rather than write. Veronica and Dennis Connely (798-5265) or John Wilson (798-4596).

If you’re attempting to trace ancestors through local histories, the following books of Wolfville writer James Doyle Davison will be helpful: What Mean These Stones (on the old Horton – Wolfville burying ground); Mud Creek (history of Wolfville – Doyle is the editor); Handley Chipman, Kings County Planter; Eliza of Pleasant Valley (the second in a trilogy on the Chipmans of Kings County).

The indices of these books contain lengthy lists of family names which are common to this area and includes the original settlers.

In 1828, Joseph Howe began a series of excursions into the countryside of the province, writing about them in the pages of his newspaper, the Novascotian. His travel sketches were published in book form by the University of Toronto Press in the ’70s and it’s there to read if you want to know what the Annapolis Valley was like over 150 years ago.

Howe always had a kind word about the major Valley towns he visited on his rambles nearly 50 years before the railroad arrived – most were insignificant villages in his day – but he also wrote bluntly about their shadier aspects and this makes interesting reading.

Howe spares no one. About Windsor, which early in the 19th century was one of the major commercial areas, Howe writes, “Of this beautiful little village you have doubtless heard much and read more.” Then, after telling his readers about Windsor’s college, its academy and its “rural and elegant seats,” Howe gives us this impression of its inhabitants: “I might entertain you for hours with the manners and peculiarities of the villagers… and amuse you with sad stories of their inhospitality and pride.”

Howe is more unkind with Kentville. He paints an unflattering picture of this then village which is just beginning to flex it muscles as a commercial centre.

Typically, Howe first praises the town before dealing with what he sees as Kentville’s less appealing side. “We are now approaching the sweet little village of Kentville and a pleasanter place either to look at or be in, is not within the range of the North Mountain – it is seated in a valley and contains about 30 houses near its centre, the Horton and Cornwallis streets cross each other, and hence the old name of Horton Corner.”

After this pleasant introduction, and before he has kind words about the amenities at the Kentville Inn, Howe dips his pen in vitriol. “And now let me warn you that you are getting into a bad neighbourhood, so remember it behoves you to beware, for hereabouts do dwell a set of fellows who are past all endurance: hardly do you get into the village before some long-legged merchant pops you in a gig and gallops you away to church – or some other sinner of the same stamp gets. you into his house, from which it is no easy matter to escape,” Howe may have had tongue in cheek here, but he leaves not doubt that Kentville inhabitants were heavy drinkers

It would have been interesting to see what Howe would have said about Wolfville and if he would have pulled his punches. Strangely, the travelling newspaperman makes only vague reference to this then prominent centre. Howe must have passed through Wolfville or close by it. He describes the Gaspereau Valley and its river and raves about the beauty of the Horton area which he views while travelling to Kentville; but somehow he misses Wolfville.

Perhaps it was the journalistic style of the times to paint unflattering pictures of people and places. A portrait of Kentville in a November 1883 issue of the New Star notes that in its early days, the town was “small potatoes and few in a hill.”